The Fourth Power
by fullsailnate
Summary: Harry and Hermione have formed a secret society in order to destroy the Dark Lord's forces. Will they succeed? Will they be able to keep it secret? Please Read and Review!
1. Prologue: Death to the Eater

Disclaimer: I own the plot. Everything else belongs to the wonderful and extremely talented J.K. Rowling

Prologue: Death to the Eater

Lucius Malfoy was laughing to himself. His Lord just liberated him from prison. After just a little punishment for allowing the prophecy to be destroyed, Lucius was back in the Dark Lord's inner circle. 'And the best part,' Lucius thought to himself, 'is that nobody will be able to find me here.'

No sooner had he formed this thought, then a regal looking eagle owl swooped in and dropped a letter onto his desk. "Hmmmm…" he muttered, "How did this owl find me? This place is supposed to be unplottable." The only person that should be able to find him here should be the Dark Lord himself, and he always used ravens to deliver his missives.

Lucius quickly pulled out his wand and performed several magic detection charms on the letter, but couldn't find anything suspicious about the letter, aside from the magical address on the front.

Deciding to risk it, Lucius picked up the letter for a closer examination. The parchment was very nice, and rather official looking. The parchment was addressed to: Lucius Malfoy, wherever he is, the world. That explained how the owl could find him. Whoever sent this had no idea where he was; they just needed to get him a message. Lucuis then turned his examinations to the wax seal in the parchment. He didn't recognize it. The sealing wax was a shade of dark purple, and had a dragon impressed into it, biting it's tail to form a circle with a capital letter 'I' in the middle. 'Strange seal.' Lucius thought. 

Finally deciding that whatever the letter said, it couldn't hurt him, Lucius broke the seal and unrolled the parchment. As he read it, an amused smirk grew on his face.

_Lucius Malfoy,_

_The Imperial Dragon Circle has reviewed your recent and past criminal history, and after many hours of careful deliberation, we have decided that your presence in the Wizarding World is having a negative effect on society as a whole._

_You have been found guilty of crimes against the Wizarding World, and sentenced to execution._

The Imperial Dragon Circle 

It was absurd! This group that he'd never heard of before thought that they could bring him to justice! Lucius smiled to himself, and couldn't help but chuckle at the letter. These fools couldn't possibly subdue the most powerful of the Dark Lord's Death Eaters, especially while he was in this house!

"Something amuses you?" said a voice from about 10 feet in front of the desk. The tone sent chills up Malfoy's spine. It was soft, cold, and deadly. Lucius' head snapped up from the letter to survey the source of the voice.

Standing in front of him was a man. He was wearing blood red combat robes, and a black open-front cloak. The cloak was fastened to his robes at two points near his shoulders with clasps bearing the Circle Insignia. The hood of his cloak was pulled up over his head, making it impossible to see whom he was.

Lucius regarded the man coolly. He didn't know how the man had gotten inside the house without tripping the wards, but he knew the he had not apparated in. Only himself and the Dark Lord could do that. Never the less, Lucius knew that the wards inside the house prevented anyone other than the Dark Lord or himself from using magic. "Yes, something amuses me. This Imperial Dragon Circle thinks it can execute me. I find that highly amusing." Lucius sneered at the man.

"Oh?" said the man. "Well then, allow me to introduce myself. I am called Flame. I am the chief assassin of the Imperial Dragon Circle. I will be your executioner this evening."

So, they were starting right away. Lucius knew he had a magical advantage over the man, so he really wasn't worried. "Really?" Lucius smirked at the man. "I think you'll find that it's the other way around." Lucius pulled out his wand and leveled it at the man.

Not even a moment later there was a soft whooshing sound, and a small throwing knife  embedded itself in Lucius' hand. Lucius screamed in pain and dropped his wand.

"Oh! Please forgive me Lucius. I completely forgot my manners. Allow me to introduce my second in command. Her name is Blade." The man said, his voice dripping with false remorse. A woman stepped out of the shadows on the man's left. She was dressed exactly the same as the man, right down the the insignia.

The tide had turned. It was two against one now, and the fact that he could no longer grip his wand negated any magical advantage he had. Still he was a Malfoy, and he could find a way out of any situation. Add to that, these two still couldn't use magic inside the house.

"Lucius Malfoy, you have been deemed a danger to the community by the Imperial Dragon Circle. You have been sentenced to execution, to be carried out immediately." The man pulled from his robes a Chrome-plated 9mm handgun, and leveled it at Lucius. The gun reported 5 times, and Lucius Malfoy fell to the ground, with five holes in his chest.

The two assasins looked at each other, and then turned back to the body. The man gathered up the body, and wrapped it in a deep purple shroud. He then carried it out the front door. The woman looked through the desk, and searched all the papers, finally finding something useful. She then pocketed the document and followed the man out.

Once outside, the man and woman linked hands, raised their wands, and started to chant a spell. Almost immediately, the house erupted in blue-white flames. The fire was intense, and consumed the building rapidly, but the pair of assasins did not wait around to watch. They had a statement to make.

The next morning, Lucius Malfoys body was found, hanging upside down from a streetlight outside the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade. A note was found, pinned to the purple shroud that he was wrapped in.

Courtesy of the Imperial Dragon Circle 

Authors Note: So, what do you think? Should I continue? Comments and suggestions welcome. I'm really not sure exactly where this story is going to end up, but I have a basic outline


	2. Chapter 01: Discovering the Dragons

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed my first chapter. If you read it and didn't review, then I hope you enjoyed it. Well, here goes the next chapter!

**

Chapter 01: Discovering the Dragons

**

The Daily Prophet ran the story on the front page.

_Dragons Destroy Prominent Death Eater!!!_

_Early yesterday morning, residents in Hogsmeade woke up to a nasty shock. Hanging by his ankles from a lamp post, wrapped in a purples shroud, and dripping blood, was the dead body of Lucius Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy, a prominent member of Wizarding society, was recently found guilty of being a Death Eater. Sentenced to a life-term in Azkaban, Malfoy was rescued from his fate by other followers of You-Know-Who 3 days ago._

_A group of people calling themselves the Imperial Dragon Circle found him 2 nights ago, and apparently executed him on the spot. An examination of the body revealed five holes in his chest, each containing an oddly shaped metal object. The Ministry of Magic stated that these objects are a muggle device called a bullet. According to the Muggle Relations Office, muggles use devices called firearms to accelerate these objects to very high speeds, and aim them in a certain direction. These devices are apparently specifically designed to kill._

_Are these dragons muggles? This reporter doesn't think so. A magical investigation on the body revealed no clues as to the killer's identity, which leaves us to wonder who this circle is, and what they want. The Ministry released a statement, saying "These dragons must be found. Vigilantes can not be allowed to roam free, and kill whoever they desire. We are looking into it."_

_Reporting for the Prophet: Jessica Thatcher._

**

"Hermione, did you see the Prophet this morning?" asked Harry Potter, 16 year old wizard-in training, after scanning the paper for the fourth time.

"No, I didn't. Why do you ask?" said Hermione, Harry's best friend, and new girlfriend.

"Some group of assassins killed Malfoy senior 2 nights ago, using muggle weapons." Harry responded. "And the ministry has no idea who the killers are."

Hermione furrowed her brows in concentration. "That's interesting. Does the paper say who they work for"

"No, it doesn't, Hermione, but I think we should speak to professor Dumbledore about it. Maybe the Order knows something about them." Harry said, looking a bit sad.

"What's wrong Harry? You look sad." Stated Hermione, picking up her boyfriend's mood change right away.

"Well, I never got along with the Malfoy family, but I can't help feeling a bit sad for Draco. Losing a father can't be easy." Harry said.

**

Assassins! After all the work he'd gone through to select his inner circle, assassins killed his right hand man! And the assassins were using muggle weapons, no less! Voldemort was not happy, to say the least. Voldemort had been counting on Malfoy to finance some big projects coming up. Now he would have to look for funding elsewhere. After all, I took a lot of money to be as evil as Lord Voldemort.

Blast! As if he didn't already have enough to worry about. He had enough on his plate with the Potter boy, the prophecy, the muggle-loving fool, and the Ministry. Now he had to add a group assassins, systematically tearing his ranks apart to the list. Blast!

Voldemort entered the main chamber, to address his assembled Death Eaters. He needed information on these assassins, and he needed it fast. He had a very large network of information gatherers, and he intended to use them.

"My faithful Death Eaters. I have called you here this evening to bring to your attention a very troubling problem. A group called The Imperial Dragon Circle killed Lucius 2 nights ago. The assassin that did the job was obviously very skilled. He entered the house without activating any of the security spells, entered the room Lucius was in undetected, killed him without a struggle, and burned the house to the ground, without alerting the detection spells I placed on the house. Two things are obvious. The assassin did not apparate into the house, and Lucius was killed without using magic. I placed to very specific wards on that house. I cast an anti-apparition field, and a magic nullifier ward. The first prevents apparition, as the name suggests. The second prevents anyone not keyed into the ward from using any kind of magic." Voldemort paused, and waited for his followers to digest the information.

"Master? What are we to do about this group?" Said a cold female voice. The voice belonged to Bellatrix Lestrange, the only female senior Death Eater. (A/N: Lower Death Eaters do not speak directly to Voldemort.)

"I'm glad you asked Bellatrix." Voldemort said, his eyes alight with malice. "This assassin would be a valuable asset. I want to know who he is, and what he wants. You, my faithful followers are going to find me this information, and bring this assassin to me."

"Yes, my Lord." No one in attendance dared to deny the Dark Lord. Even if the idea of confronting battle hardened, ruthless assassins made them want to pass out, to question the Dark Lord was certain death.

"Good. Go now, my Death Eaters. Bring me the assassin, in one piece. Even if he'd rather die than join me, he intrigues me. Do not, under any circumstances, kill him before I have talked to him." Voldemort finished, and watched his Death Eaters apparate out. During the meeting, Voldemort had a revealing suspicion, and retired to his library to research a possibility.

**

"Albus, what am I to do? These dragons appear to be targeting Death Eaters. As a secondary circle member, I am now at a very high risk. The dragons don't know that I'm spying for the Order of the Phoenix!" Severus Snape, potions master and resident spy, was clearly agitated.

"Stay calm, Severus. The Order is looking into the Dragon Circle situation." Albus Dumbledore stated, placing a calming hand on his friend's shoulder. " We need to know what they are doing, and what their motives are. The Order is now split into teams, opposing Voldemort, or digging for information on the Imperial Dragon Circle."

"That's all well and good, Albus, but what am I to do in the interim?" Severus asked, calming down slightly.

"You are to assist the group looking for the dragons. From what you said earlier, Voldemort wants them. We'll coordinate our search with you, so you will have something to report to him." Albus said.

"Thank you, Albus." Severus said, relieved to be useful again.

"No problem, my dear boy. Now, you should rest. The students will be here tomorrow." Albus said, and sat back down at his desk. Severus walked out of the Headmaster's Office, and shut the door behind him.

Neither person noticed the cloaked figure next to the book shelves, as he melted silently into the shadows he'd been standing in.

**

A/N: Well, there's chapter 1. My story is almost off the ground, the next chapter gets into the Order, The ministry, and maybe a little bit of the circle itself. Drop me a review, and tell me what you think.


	3. Chapter 02: ABC's

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything in my story, except the plot and my reporter.

A/N: Normally, I would be thanking my reviewers here, but since I'm putting this chapter out so quickly after the last one, nobody had time to review the last chapter. Go Me!!! 2 chapters in a day! Ok, enough patting myself on the back, and on with the show!!!

**

Chapter 02:  Assassinations, Black Eyes, and Circles

**

Avery was getting panicky. He'd just run through his entire network of spies and informants, and not a single one of them had any information that could help him. His master would not be pleased with him if he had nothing to report, and that would mean punishment. Avery loved using the cruciatus curse, especially on muggles, but had absolutely no tolerance for pain himself. He would have to make something up, and hope the others' information didn't contradict him. He had just started planning his story, when a barn owl swooped down and dropped a letter into his lap. Avery, thinking it was from one of his informants, opened the letter immediately. As he read, the color completely left his face.

John Avery 

_In light if your recent criminal acts under the leadership of Lord Voldemort, the Imperial Dragon Circle convened to decide your fate. Many hours were spent weighing several options for punishment, or freedom. After careful deliberation, the Imperial Dragon Circle Has judged you guilty for crimes against the Wizarding World. You are sentenced to execution, to be carried out immediately_

_The Imperial Dragon Circle_

Oh god. Avery would bet all his gold in Gringott's that Lucius had received one of these just before he died. He had to get away, and tell the Dark Lord about the letter. First things first however, Avery needed to escape. Avery started looking around wildly for an exit.

"I don't think so, Mr. Avery. There's no escape from here." Said the voice of a young man. Avery immediately felt the air grow heavy, as an anti apparition field settled down around them.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" Sneered Avery, trying to intimidate the man, even though the sight of him was almost making Avery feel faint. The Man was wearing black combat robes, with the Imperial Circle Insignia in glowing white on the front. He was hooded, and there was absolutely no light on his face.

"Well, since you asked so nicely, I'll answer your questions. You may call me Flame, and I need some information from you." The man said, his voice soft and deadly, like a snake ready to strike. Avery pulled his wand deciding to forego any further banter.

"Avada Kedavra!" He shouted, leveling his wand at the young man. Green light lit up the area, and the stream of death rocketed at the young man. However, when the curse found its mark, the young man was nowhere to be seen. Avery blinked, and looked again. No dead body, no body at all.

"That wasn't nice, Mr. Avery." Stated the voice from right behind him. Avery whirled around, ready to fling another killing curse, but at that moment, his wand burst into flames. This both burned and startled Avery, who promptly dropped his wand. "Dueling practice is over, Mr. Avery. Since you seem to be hesitant to answer my questions, we'll just move on to the end."

A woman, wearing the same attire as the man, stepped into view. "Mr. Avery, you have been found guilty of conspiracy against the Wizarding World, and sentenced to death. Execution, to be carried out in the prescribed method, immediately." She said, in a voice much higher, but still every bit as deadly as her companion's.

The man stepped up next to her, and lifted his hand towards Avery. Pointing his index finger at Avery's chest, the man whispered "Engorgio." Avery felt like his heart was expanding. He screamed. It was like it was trying to burst out from his ribcage. It was, in fact, trying to do just that. Seconds later, Avery's chest burst open, revealing a heart the size of a quaffle. The young woman stepped up closer, drew her sword, and sliced the heart right in half. Avery's eyes shot open, as the pain suddenly intensified, then he passed out from blood loss.

"Well done Blade." Said the young man. His voice was no longer deadly, but soft and caring, with real admiration for his female companion.

"Thank you Flame. How are we formatting our statement tonight?" Asked the young woman, her voice also adopting the soft and caring tone. Now that the job was done, it was obvious that these two people care a great deal for one another.

"I think we'll leave him here, in the middle of the street. Cover him with the shroud, and I'll draw our symbol around him. He can be the letter 'I'." Said Flame, as he started drawing a pattern in the air with his wand. "A dead body in the middle of Diagon Alley makes a powerful statement, doesn't it?"

"Yes it does. How do we sign the note? Same as Last time?" Blade asked, quill and parchment out, ready to sign.

"Yeah, that will work. Don't want to throw them any clues too early in the game, after all." Blade said as he finished burning the mark into the street. "As long as we go without names or faces, we keep everyone on their toes."

"Alright then, are we finished? We've got an appointment tomorrow." Said blade, wiping off and re-sheathing her sword. She started to walk away, and Flame fell into step right beside her. 

**

The next morning, the students arrived at King's Cross Station, and climbed on the Hogwarts Express. Harry and Hermione found a compartment, and sat down next to each other. They each opened their books, and began to read silently, just enjoying each other's company. It was about 20 minutes later that their compartment was invaded by a red-haired intruder. Both Harry and Hermione looked up, and into the smiling face of Ron Weasley, their best friend of six years.

"Hey you two, how were your summers?" Ron asked, the smile never leaving his face. Harry and Hermione shared a look. Ron seemed to be a little two happy to be going back to school.

"Our summer was great, we ended up spending the last month together. How was Romania?" Hermione said, trying to figure out what could be making Ron so happy. His grin just seemed too big to be allowed.

"Romania was good. Those dragons are huge. But, that's not why I'm happy. I just saw Malfoy on the platform, and he said something about my family, and I gave him a black eye!" Ron smiled broadly at his accomplishment. Harry and Hermione just looked at each other, and settled back in to read some more. "Well, anyway, I'm going back to my compartment to find Lavender. See you both later."

"Is it just me, or is Ron almost as big of a prat to Malfoy, as Malfoy is to us?" Asked Harry. Hermione looked at him for a minute, then thought about what he said.

"You're right. I mean Ron is a nice guy, but he's got a vicious temper, and a rather large malicious streak when it comes to Malfoy." Hermione said, before going back to her book.

Five minutes later, an owl landed in their compartment clutching a Daily Prophet in its beak. Harry paid the five Knuts, and sent the owl on its way. Harry unrolled the paper, and gasped. "Hermione, they did it again!" Hermione looked over at the paper, and gasped as well. The front page was a large picture of a murder scene in Diagon Alley.

Second Death Eater Killing Linked to Dragons!!! 

_Early this morning, the body of John Avery was found outside Eyelop's Owl Emporium. The body was mutilated, chest opened, and the heart cut in half. The body was found wrapped in a purple shroud, with a not pinned to it. The contents of the note are unknown at this time, but what is clear is that the killers were the now infamous Imperial Dragon Circle. Although the Ministry has released no statement concerning this, the mark burned into the street is a dead give away. The dragons' motives are still unclear, but they are ruthless in executing their targets._

_Reporting for the Prophet: Jessica Thatcher_

"Impressive work." Harry stated blandly, looking at the picture. Hermione agreed, and went back to her book.

The rest of the ride to Hogwarts was uneventful. As sixth-year prefects, Hermione and Harry attended the prefect's meeting in the front compartment, and assigned the new password to Gryffindor Tower.

The Welcoming Feast was also uneventful, aside from meeting Professor Kilroy, the new teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts. After the feast, Harry and Hermione walked up to the staff table, and asked Professor Dumbledore if he knew anything about the Imperial Dragon Circle. Dumbledore told them he had no information about them, but that the order was looking into it.

Harry and Hermione went to their rooms, and went to bed, feeling tired. (A/N: In my Hogwarts, the prefects get private dorms.)

**

Flame and Blade met that night again. It was time to compare notes on how their opponents were dealing with the Imperial Dragons. Flame was watching the Dark Lord, while Blade was spying on The Order of the Phoenix.

"Ok Blade, how is the Order dealing with our appearance, and what do they know?" Flame asked. Flame knew that Albus Dumbledore was one of the most intelligent wizards alive, and should not be underestimated. He was genuinely concerned about what the old wizard had found out so far.

"Dumbledore knows nothing about us, other than our group's name. He doesn't have a clue as to who, or what we are. He's worried about us, though. He's split his forces in half. He's being very cautious about dealing with us, assigning half of his Phoenix agents to find out what we're about." Blade said.

"That's good. After all, that's our objective. We seem to have struck a nerve with Snake Face as well." Blade snickered at Flames nickname for the Dark Lord. "Actually, we seem to have struck gold on that venture. Voldemort has pulled ALL forces out of ALL other projects, and his entire organization is looking for us. We're going to need to be more careful in the future, but our plan is working perfectly." Flame said, a detectable note of triumph in his voice. "Snake Face has the suspicion that we aren't human, but there's not a lot he can do about it, even when he figures out what we are."

"Next Target?" Blade said, getting back to business.

"Theodore Nott Sr." Flame responded, also back to business. "Three A.M. Saturday morning."

"I'll be ready, Flame. Are you staying with me tonight?" Blade asked with a sexy smile. "We haven't slept in the same bed for a while."

"I'd love to, sweetheart." Flame said. Both figure melted silently into the shadows, heading for Blade's bed.

**

A/N: Well, that's Chapter 02. Stay tuned for Chapter 03, coming soon. We're going into the Ministry in the next episode, and the Order will convene as well.


	4. Chapter 03: Threats and Suspicions

A/N: I had a little trouble deciding what year of schooling to make this, so the first chapters had some inconsistencies as to what year of school Harry is taking in the story. I finally decided on making this a sixth year fic. I have now adjusted everything, so if yo notice any blatant errors about time frame, tell me in a review. Now that that's out of the way, on with my fic!!!

**

Chapter 03: Threats and Suspicions

**

"I want to know who they are, and I want to know it yesterday!" Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, thundered at Kingsley Shacklebolt. "These dragons have killed two members of prominent pureblood families! Death Eaters or not, these dragons must be stopped! How are we to know that this Imperial Dragon Circle isn't actually targeting purebloods, and the two that they've killed first just happened to be Death Eaters?"

"I find it unlikely, Minister." Shacklebolt said, in that reassuring tone that he possessed. "The two victims were rumored to be very close to the Dark Lord. That's the most likely explanation. I find it very unlikely that this circle would have something against purebloods as a whole."

"Damn it, Shacklebolt, I don't care what you think! Just find them, and stop them! As Minister of Magic, I can't allow them to threaten our society's stability. Vigilantes can't be allowed to take matters into their own hands. The Order of the Phoenix is bad enough!" Fudge blustered, and walked into his office and slammed the door.

Turning to face his desk, Fudge immediately noticed a few things wrong with his office. One, the shades on his window were pulled down, making the normally bright room unusually dark. Second, the two decorative torches on the sides of his office were burning merrily away, casting odd shadows all over the room. And the most frightening change was the hooded figure sitting in his chair at his desk. Fudge turned back around to leave his office, and found himself staring at a blank wall. His heart rate quickened, and his face paled. He turned back around, to meet his end with some dignity.

"You should listen to your friend, Mr. Fudge." Stated the figure, in a soft dangerous voice. "He seems to have a better handle on the situation than you do. Face facts Minister, most Death Eaters are purebloods. As a matter of fact, the Dark Lord's entire inner circle, aside from Voldemort himself of course, is made up entirely of pureblooded wizards."

"You-Know-Who isn't a pureblood?" Asked Fudge, his curiosity overcoming his fear momentarily. "How is that possible?"

"Lord Voldemort is an assumed name." Said the man, rising from the Minister's chair. "The name on his birth records is Tom Marvolo Riddle. He went to Hogwarts, class of 1945. He was responsible for opening the Chamber of Secrets. He was evil then, and he's still evil now. He's more powerful now, but we're working on that."

Finally over the initial shock of seeing the man in his office, the Minister found his courage once again. "Who are you, and what are you doing in my office?" Fudge demanded, trying to sound intimidating, and failing miserably.

"You may call me Flame, Minister Fudge. I am the Imperial Dragon Circle's head assassin. I am here to deliver a message from the Circle." The man said, his voice growing deadlier by the syllable. "The message is very simple. Stay out of our way. Looking for us is looking for trouble. Oppose us and die."

Unbelievable. This man was in his office, standing behind his desk, and making threats. "Are you threatening me, young man?" Fudge blustered. "I'll have you arrested for this!" The young man continued to stand there, his expression hidden under the shadow of his hood.

"You are a quick study, Minister. Yes, that was a threat. I will not be arrested. Not today, at the least. I have other things to attend to today. Remember the message. Good day, Minister Fudge." The man said, before he melted into the large shadow made by the bookshelf on the left side of the room.

Cornelius Fudge gasped at the man's exit, and sat down in the nearest chair. He'd just met the Circle's head assassin, and lived to tell about it. But the man had made it very clear that that could change at a moments notice. He needed a drink!

**

"Was the Message delivered?"

"Yes. After the shock wears off, Minister Fudge will certainly put some of his Aurors on the trail of the Imperial Dragon Circle."

"So, now the three opposing powers have all been forced to split their attention. Good, that makes things easier for us. This is getting fun."

"You know, that is the biggest problem with all three of our opponents. They are way too serious. We can play all three sides off the others, and sit in the middle and enjoy."

"Don't forget that we also influence the outcome from the middle, sweetie. I really don't care about that so much, but it is nice to be in control, for a change. Plus, I love thinking about the pain Voldie and Fudge are experiencing, not being in control of this situation."

"Ok sweetheart, the Order has a meeting tonight, right?"

"Right."

"Ok, then we deliver their message tonight. I want to give Dumbledore a clue as to what he's up against, and show the entire Order how helpless they really are against us. That will push more attention on us, and free up more targets for us."

"Alright, sweetie. Can I watch? I enjoyed your chat with Fudge. I laughed for 5 minutes at the look on his face when he saw you for the first time."

"Sure sweetheart, I'll patch you in."

**

It was becoming a very normal mood for him, but Voldemort was angry again. Two of his best, killed in less than a week! And to top it off, no ideas as to who his tormentors were! Of course, Voldemort had his suspicions. The manner in which the deaths were carried out suggested things that the Dark Lord could not ignore.

The assassins entered the house without tripping any of the security spells, and without disturbing the apparition wards, suggesting an alternate means of travel. The execution was carried out muggle style with no magical assistance, suggesting very experienced magic scanners. The house was burned to the ground using a very old dark magic ritual fire spell, suggesting uncanny knowledge of magic.

Voldemort only knew of one type of humanoid creature that fit all those criteria, but was reluctant to give them a name. If they weren't what he suspected, then he would look foolish in the eyes of his followers. If it turned out he was right, then another question would present itself. Why weren't they working for him? Voldemort idly pressed the mark on Wormtail's arm. It was time to find out what his Death Eater's knew.

**

"Alright Kingsley, what does the Ministry know about the Imperial Dragon Circle?" Dumbledore asked, after the meeting was called to order. Dumbledore was quite worried about this new entity joining the war. The Circle's long-term intentions were completely unknown to him, and it scared him. The Order of the Phoenix needed to exert some form of control over this new group, so that they could concentrate on Voldemort.

"Well Albus, the Ministry has no information about them. Lucius Malfoy's body was checked repeatedly, using techniques both magical and muggle. Malfoy's body was completely unchanged, magically, indicating no spells were cast on him." Shacklebolt said, giving his report with clinical detachment. "Muggle forensic science revealed that the bullets in his chest were 9mm hand-molded slugs. The interesting feature of these bullets, however was the charm on them. Our best scanners took seventeen hours to identify what they did. They call it a penetration charm. The bullets would literally go through anything, until they found their target. Buildings, walls, floors, shield charms, anything. Very impressive spellwork, considering it was done with no wand." The effect of these words was immediate. Every person present started whispering and worrying about the power of the Imperial Dragon Circle.

"No wand, Kingsley?" Albus questioned. "How can you be sure?"

"Well, this is how it was explained to me. When a spell is cast through a wand, the wand filters and concentrates magic in a certain way. Phoenix feathers concentrate magic in a different way than Unicorn hairs do. This is called a wand signature. The department of magical law enforcement has a charm to check what kind of wand did the spells. When used on the bullets, the charm didn't react at all." Kingsley responded. Dumbledore nodded.

"What about Avery? I know that magic was used on him. What was used? I saw a picture of the body, taken by the Ministry's crime scene unit, and his heart was the size of a quaffle." Albus prompted, swinging the focus onto the most recent homicide.

"Avery's heart was hit with a very focused engorgement charm." Shacklebolt said, eliciting gasps from his audience. "His heart was then sliced in two by a sword carrying a severing charm on the blade. Once again, no wand signature on the engorgement charm."

"So these guys are good." Growled Mad-Eye Moody, retired auror and resident paranoid wizard. "One more reason to practice CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

"True, but even the most vigilant can be taken by surprise if they think they're safe." Said a voice from the back of the room. Moody's magical eye swiveled around to face the voice, his body quickly following.

"STUPEFY!" Yelled Moody, leveling his wand at the intruder. Red light flew at the man, and hit…the wall where the man used to be. Moody was dumbfounded. He'd never seen anyone move like that. His eye swiveled around, looking for the man. He was nowhere to be found. "Huh. Must have apparated out. Typical cowardly act of a Death Eater."

"Shoot first and ask questions later, Mr. Moody?" The same voice said, this time from behind Dumbledore. "Not the best way to establish friendly dialog. Of course, I understand that you've never really been the diplomatic type." Dumbledore turned slowly, to look at the young man. He was wearing black combat robes, cuffed with flames. In the middle of his chest was a large red Imperial Dragon Circle Insignia. He was wearing a hooded cape, the hood completely hiding his face. The energy radiating off of the man awed even Dumbledore.

"Good evening, young man. My name is Albus Dumbledore. May I ask yours?" Dumbldore said conversationally. The young man wasn't holding a wand, but Dumbledore knew that he was still dangerous.

"You may call me Flame, Mr. Dumbledore." The man, Flame, said. "I am the chief assassin of the Imperial Dragon Circle." Now Dumbledore knew that this man was dangerous. He also suspected that this was the man who had killed Lucius Malfoy and John Avery. "I heard you discussing my work a few moments ago. I felt it would be appropriate for me to comment. I also have a message for you from the Circle."

"What comments did you wish to make about your killings, Flame?" Dumbledore asked, glancing at Remus Lupin and Mad-eye Moody. Lupin and Moody sidled into a position behind Flame and pointed their wands at him.

"Come on, Mr. Dumbledore, you say killing like it's a bad thing. The way I executed them was artistic, and brutal." Flame said, with a small humorless chuckle. "But that's not what I really wanted to address. You were talking about my wandless magic abilities. You could probably guess all night and you would leave no better off than before, so I'll let you in on my little secret." Flame leaned forward conspiratorially, but spoke in a manner that all in the room could hear him. "Only humans need a wand to focus magic." The entire room gasped. Dumbledore glanced at Lupin and Moody again, and gave them a fractional nod.

"STUPEFY!" They roared together. Flame shrugged his shoulders, and fell through the floor. The spells once again impacted on the walls. The entire room was dumbfounded this time. "What just happened?" Lupin asked, feeling a little faint.

"You specialize in dark creatures, Mr. Lupin. Surely you have a guess." Flame stated, stepping out from a darkened corner of the room. Lupin's legs gave out, and he ended up sitting on the floor. "Mr. Dumbledore no doubt has a clue, as of now."

Dumbledore was watching the scene with wide eyes. There was only one creature in the world capable of that, but they were supposed to be extinct. "A Shadow Master…" Dumbledore trailed off. He quickly pulled his wand. "NOX TOTALUS!" He yelled, plunging the entire room into darkness. There were a few screams, but nobody moved.

"Very good Mr. Dumbledore. You found a way to keep me here. However, how do you expect to subdue me?" Flame said, chuckling at the man's attempt to stop him. "I have a message for you, from the Imperial Dragon Circle. Pull your spies out of the Dark Lord's Camp. If you do not, they will die."

"Why is that? Do you know who they are?" Asked Dumbledore, searching the darkness with his ears, trying to pinpoint the Shadow Master's location. It was no use. The man's voice seemed to come from everywhere at once.

"Of course we know who they are, we're not stupid." Retorted Flame, annoyance evident in his voice. "But Voldemort doesn't know who they are. We know all of his plans before he implements them, and if we start killing the Death Eaters involved, Voldemort will kill anyone he suspects of being a spy. Your spies will be found, and killed. Pull them out, Dumbledore." Having delivered his message, flame conjured a ball of light, and melted into the shadows.

"Finite Incantatum." Muttered Dumbledore, and all the lights went back on. "Well, that was certainly food for thought" He said, somewhat bemused by the whole situation. "Alright people, the assassin was right. We need to pull our spies out as quickly as possible. I need workable scenarios for extraction of each and every one of them in 48 hours, understood? Good, see you in two days. Be safe, my friends."

**

A/N: Things are heating up. What do you think so far? In the next chapter, we're going back to Hogwarts for some Harry adventuring. Should be a good time. See you all soon!


	5. Chapter 04: Classes and Confusion

A/N: This will be my 5th posting in this story, and so far people have liked it. I am grateful to all my reviewers, and a couple of elements of my story need clarification. First, thank you to:

Jess

Fantasyismylife

Slate_one

Universalstar87(Thanks for teling me about the unsigned review thing. I didn't even notice.)

Psalatino(Special thanks to you. You're the first one to put me on a favorites list)

Potter-Man

Brion(No, Flame and Blade are not from the future.)

Morgana(It wouldn't be any fun if I just told you who they were.)

Star Mage(Special thanks to you, as my very first reviewer.)

Lucius Malfoy was in Azkaban awaiting trial. He was broken out in transit between Azkaban and the Ministry. (Probably an inside job.  Use your imaginations.)

I have no talent at writing romance. The summer saw Harry and Hermione get together, and also Ron and Lavender. Whatever story works for you, use it. Harry is a prefect, not Ron this year. Ron stepped down because he hated the job. He also wanted to spend time with Lavender.

Alrighty, that's all settled. Now, on to the story!

I revised Chapter 01: Discovering the Dragons, Because it was confusing.

**

Chapter 04: Classes and Confusion

**

The first day of school turned out to be one of the most interesting days of the year for Harry. He had chosen his N.E.W.T. classes with being an Auror in mind, but it seemed the teaching bug had bitten Harry. His experience teaching the D.A. had shown him how rewarding it was to have students learning from you. His new dream was to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts once he finished school.

The first day was certain to be a good one, Harry found out at breakfast. He had advanced DADA in the morning, and advanced Transfiguration in the afternoon. (A/N: Block Scheduling for advanced classes means longer classes, more details.) He was really looking forward to DADA, but a little apprehensive about the new teacher. Professor Kilroy had never been an auror, and had no experience fighting dark arts. She was a professor of magical theory. Needless to say, Harry was interested to find out what she was going to be teaching them.

The students from Gryffindor and the other houses met outside the room, and trooped in as a unit. (A/N: All advanced classes have all 4 houses in them.) Professor Kilroy was sitting at her desk, watching them all arrive. Once everyone was seated, she stood up and walked to the frontof her desk, and spoke to her class.

"Good morning class, I am Professor Kilroy. This class is called Defense Against the Dark Arts, but what are dark arts exactly?" She said, taking her students by surprise. "Anyone?"

Draco Malfoy raised his hand, and Professor Kilroy pointed to him. "Any magic that is specifically designed to cause pain or death." He stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Professor Kilroy looked at him and smiled.

"That answer, Mr. Malfoy, is good, even though it is completely wrong." The smug look fell right off Malfoy's face as the teacher spoke those words. " I did not ask about dark magic, I asked about dark arts. Anyone else?" Harry raised his hand, as did Hermione. Professor Kilroy smiled again, and pointed to Harry. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"Professor, I would define dark arts as a way of thinking. Any type of spell, potion, or talent and technique, used with intent to harm another creature." Professor Kilroy looked at him for a moment.

"Could you please elaborate on that Mr. Potter? I like your answer, but I fear you may have lost most of the class." She said, looking at the confused faces of many of the students.

"Certainly Professor. Everyone knows what the unforgiveable curses are, and that is unquestionably dark magic. This morning's paper had the Auror's report on the death of John Avery. The magic used on him was not dark." Harry said, making the class stare. "The aurors found traces of a severing charm, and an engorgement charm. That's fourth and fifth year charms, taught at this very school. The magic itself was not dark, but the way it was used would be defined as dark arts."

"Very good Mr. Potter. Ten points to Gryffindor." Professor Kilroy said, smiling at the class once again. "That is why I am teaching you this year. It is important to understand that the dark arts are not just limited to specific things found in the restricted section. It's not only about what magic is used, but also how the magic is used. The best way to understand that, is to understand how the magic works."

All in all, it was one of the most informative classes Harry had ever taken. Advanced Transfiguration was no different. They went through a lot of theory, and reviewed the harder concepts of the previous year. All in all, it was a very satisfying day.

That evening, during dinner, Professor Dumbledore asked Harry and Hermione to come to his office as soon as he had finished eating. Harry and Hermione shared a suspiciously anxious look, and then finished eating. After they were done, they made their way to the Headmaster's office. They didn't know what to expect, but it was confusing that when they stepped into the office, they found Remus Lupin sitting in a chair by the wall. The Headmaster was sitting behind his desk, and he beckoned them to sit.

"Good evening Harry, Ms. Granger." Said Dumbledore, his eyes showing that this would be a serious conversation. "Harry, I need to know where you were this summer. When your owl was not seen by Mrs. Figg for 3 days, we sent a few Aurors to your house. You were not there. Where were you?"

"Hiding." Answered Harry, meeting the Headmaster's penetrating look with one of his own. "Hiding as a result of a huge mistake made in ensuring my safety at Privet Drive."

"Mistake? What mistake is that, Harry? The blood protection your Aunt gives you reinforces the wards there, making it nearly impossible to overcome them. There is nowhere safer for you." Dumbledore said, clearly confused.

Harry sighed. He really had not wanted to talk about this yet. "Unfortunately, your wards do not know the difference between my blood, and 'Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken.' Tom Riddle could walk right through them, into my house, up the stairs, and kill me." Dumbledore's eyes widened with shock, and Harry could hear Lupin's strangled gasp of disbelief. "All without setting off the wards. One week before my birthday, He did just that. I got a quick lesson in advanced apparition. I wound up at Hermione's house, just as they were leaving for vacation. They allowed me to go with them."

Dumbldore still looked a bit shell-shocked. "Still, why didn't you tell us where you were, or what had happened? We were very worried about you, Harry."

"I couldn't take the risk, Professor. You have spies among the Death Eaters, but only the Order knew where I lived during the summer, and what sort of protections were set up. How did Voldemort get that information? I realized that Voldemort had a spy among the Order as well. " Harry said, his voice calm. Clearly he was not defending his position, but explaining it. "I didn't know who to trust with the information on my whereabouts, so I didn't tell anyone."

"I understand your position, Harry, but why didn't you send a letter to me directly? I would have sent people to –" Dumbledore started, but was interrupted by Harry.

"Exactly, Professor. You would have sent people to guard me, showing the spy my location, or maybe even putting them in a position to kill either Hermione or myself. I was not willing to take that risk." Harry said, his tone firm.

"I understand, Harry. I am glad you are safe." The headmaster said, conceding that Harry was right. " Now, I have two more things to discuss with you. The first concerns you as well, Miss Granger. As I understand it, last year, the two of you started a Defense Against the Dark Arts Club." The Two teens nodded. "I would like you to continue this group, but open it up to all student interested."

Harry spoke up. "I'm afraid I can't do that, professor. The D.A. is not a club; it's a study group. I'm teaching them practical defense. I can't deal with too many students at once. If someone is interested, they will need to speak to a current group member. If that group member feels that the person is trustworthy enough to join, they will bring it up at the next meeting. Hermione and I are the only ones who can bring members in as we please."

"I understand that, Harry, but think about expanding it. I think the whole school could benefit from your experience." Dumbledore said.

"I'm sure they would, sir." Said Harry. "And after I graduate, they will, if you need a DADA teacher." Dumbledore's eyes started to twinkle again at this statement, and Hermione smiled broadly.

"Very well. On to the last piece of business for tonight. Remus tells me that you, Harry, have an enchanted map of this school in your possession." Harry's face paled, and he glared at Remus, who looked apologetic. "I would like to borrow it from you for the year, Harry."

"May I ask why, sir?" Harry said, his voice shaking.

"Well Harry, in an Order meeting last night, we had a strange visitor, calling himself Flame. He advised us to pull our spies out of Voldemort's ranks. This leaves us with a security risk." Dumbledore said. "Without their information, we have no way of knowing when our grounds are infiltrated by Death Eaters. With the map, we'll be able to keep watch over the grounds and halls."

"That's a good reason professor." Harry said, forcing a smile. "Of course you may borrow my map."

"Thank you Harry. Could you go get it now please?" Dumbledore said, relieved. For a moment, he was certain that Harry was going to refuse. If he had, Dumbledore's hands would have been tied. Having an enchanted map was not against any school rules, so he would not be able to confiscate it. He was very glad that Harry would lend it to him willingly.

"Sure, professor." Harry said, and the two teens left the office. Once they were safely off the revolving staircase, Harry swore.

"What's wrong Harry?" Hermione asked. Harry glanced around, his eyes looking at several portraits. When the portraits noticed he was looking at hem, they quickly made themselves look busy.

"I'll tell you when we get back to my room." Harry said. The rest of the trip was made in silence.

**

Back in Harry's room, there were no portraits to overhear. Harry found the map and activated it. The spidery line extended across the page, and Harry set the map on his desk. "What do you see that's wrong with this picture?" He said, glaring at the map.

Hermione looked at the map for a moment, then gasped. "We're not on it!" She yelled, her eyes wide with astonishment. "How is that possible?"

"It's what we are, Hermione. Shadow Masters instinctively mask their magical signatures. The map, which reads our signatures, has no idea who we are. It can't show what it can't see. Understand? This makes things difficult, because professor Dumbledore will, without a doubt, use the map to keep track of us as well. If he doesn't see us on the map, he'll get suspicious, and research WHY he can't see us. That, Hermione, is research I don't want him to do. Any ideas?" Harry said quickly, almost panicking.

"Let me think for a moment, Harry." Hermione said, placing a hand on his shoulder. The couple sat for a moment, deep in thought. Hermione picked up the map, and looked at it. "Harry, remember how we learned last year in charms about the duplicatus charm?"

"Yeah, I remember. The duplicatus charm creates the illusion of…another magical presence! Hermione you are a genius!" Harry said, elated. His smile quickly faded, however. "Hermione, that spell requires a lot of energy and focus to cast. How do we keep it up all the time? We'd be exhausted after a couple of minutes."

"Not really. Remember DADA today, Professor Kilroy showed us those crystals with spells stored in them? Well, we can store our duplicatus charms in the crystal pendents we bought in Austria." Hermione said. "We can wear the crystals, and then we show up on the map."

"And on mission nights, we can take them off, and disappear. No one will suspect, because to the map, it will look like we're in bed." Harry said, now very relieved. One more problem solved. The two Shadow masters quickly cast their spells on the crystals, and their dots appeared on the map once again. Before taking the map back, Hermione brought up the subject of Theodore Nott Sr.

"How do we want to do it?" She said, her eyes glinting with the beginnings of death lust. "Bloody and violent, or swift and silent?"

"I think we're going to make a bigger statement with him. I want snake face to understand that we can hit him anywhere, plus I want the Order and the Ministry to know that we can kill in broad daylight, in the middle of a crowded street, and nobody will be able to stop us." Harry said, his eyes flickering with malice, as if they were on fire. "I think that we'll introduce Nightmare a little early. This job sounds perfect for him."

"Oooh, I can't wait to see what you have in store. Nightmare and Dreem are my favorite 2 personas. Can we plan after you take the map to Dumbledore?" Hermione said with a somewhat feral smile.

"Sure." Harry said, with an equally feral smile. He then walked out of the door, and towards the Headmaster's Office.

**

A/N: Whoo! That chapter took forever! Try as I might, I just was not happy with the dialogue. Before you ask, Harry's summer encounter with Voldemort will be told by him in a later chapter. Congrats to all you reviewers who thought Flame and Blade were H/Hr! A fairly complete description of Shadow Masters will be in the next chapter, and no they are not invincible. Well, drop me a review, and tell me what you think.


	6. Chapter 05: Planning and Revelations

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed so far! When I started this story, I never imagined that people would actually like it. Well, I want you all to know that I appreciate the comments you've made. I understand that the story is a bit confusing right now, but hopefully this chapter should make things a bit easier to understand. Well, on with the show!

**

Chapter 05: Planning and Revelations

**

While Harry was taking the map to Dumbledore's office, Hermione sat on his bed thinking. Why did she act this way? Why did she have the compulsion to kill? Harry said she would get all her answers when she was fully awakened on her birthday, but she wanted them now. She decided to make Harry explain when he got back.

Harry got back to the room, and immediately noticed the determined look on Hermione's face. He sighed. She was going to want answers, and it would be up to him to give them to her. Harry knew that although her powers had activated, she was not yet a fully awakened Shadow Master. That would happen on her birthday, in two weeks. However, Hermione's studious mind would not allow the questions to go unanswered for that long. It was time to face the music. "You look like you want a history lesson." He said, sitting down in the chair next to the bed. Hermione nodded.

Harry took a breath, got his thoughts in order, and started. "Ok, this story begins on March 22, 1980. Voldemort is at the height of power, and his influence is growing everyday. However, a group called the Order of the Phoenix has formed, and is actively attacking his forces, getting closer everyday. Follow me so far?" He paused, and waited, knowing that she would want more detail.

"The Order of the Phoenix was attacking him? I thought they were resisting him." Hermione said, confused.

"With the help of many powerful Aurors, and talented wizards who liked to fight, the Order of the Phoenix was almost as powerful as the Death Eaters. Back then, they attacked when they could, and were often victorious." Harry said, and then continued his story. "Well, naturally this made Snake Face a bit worried. After all, Albus Dumbledore is the most powerful sorcerer in the world. So he starts going through his dark arts library, eventually coming across a ritual to make himself almost invulnerable. The ritual, if successful would summon two Shadow Masters, who would present him with the Cloak of Shadows. Before you ask, a Shadow Master is a type of demon. We'll get to that in a minute, but do you have any other questions?"

"Yes I do," Hermione said. "I'm assuming that the two Shadow Masters that he summoned are us, right?" Harry nodded, and Hermione asked the real question. "Then why don't we serve him? If he's the summoner, then we would be compelled to obey him, would we not?"

"Ah, here's where the story gets interesting." Harry said, and his eyes began to twinkle like the headmaster's. "Although the Cloak of Shadows would make him almost invulnerable to attack, the ritual used to summon the Shadow Masters would leave him as a squib for several years. You see, Shadow Masters are complex magical creatures. It takes a whole lot of magic to summon them, and even more to hold them in the world. That would leave Voldemort as nothing more than a muggle, until he could recover his magic." Hermione gasped, but Harry continued. "Naturally, Voldemort found this side effect to be totally unacceptable, so he modified the ritual. Rather than summoning us from pure magic, he called us into the bodies of living humans. He had two of his followers ready to accept the Shadow master energies, but he did not specify that the Shadow Master spirits had to occupy said followers. Instead, the spirits chose two more suitable candidates. Me and you were perfect for them." Harry started to say more, but Hermione interrupted him.

 "What do you mean, perfect for them? We weren't even born yet!" Hermione exclaimed. Harry smiled at her in a rather sardonic way.

"Exactly. No thoughts of our own yet, and no magical resistance to possession. Their spirits merged with ours, and went dormant. Since we had no magical ability to speak of at the time, the desires and powers of the Shadow Masters lay dormant inside of us. Naturally Voldemort assumed that the ritual didn't work. He made preparations to try the actual summoning ritual, and then heard about a prophecy that could mean his downfall. He put the Cloak of Shadows on hold, so he could deal with the threat of a newborn baby with the power to kill him." Harry said, eyes still twinkling, but not with amusement. They now glittered with anger. "That is how we came to be Shadow Masters. Any more questions?"

"A few." Said Hermione. "Even if he called us, rather then summoned us, according to the ritual, we still should be compelled to obey his orders. So, why is it that we feel no obligation to seek him out and serve him?" Harry actually laughed at this, and Hermione got the feeling that Voldemort had made another huge mistake in the ritual.

"We are compelled to serve Lord Voldemort until we die." Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but Harry held up a hand to silence her. "Unfortunately for him, ritual magic is very precise. There is no such person as Lord Voldemort. In the eyes of magic, the man who calls himself Lord Voldemort, will never be anyone other than Tom Riddle."

Comprehension dawned on Hermione's face. "So we serve no one. Tom Riddle called us to serve Lord Voldemort, not Tom Riddle."

"Exactly." Harry said. "Any more questions, or should we get down to planning?"

"I have one more question, but I'm not sure how to ask it. Harry, why do we have a compulsion to kill?" Hermione asked. This was the question that had plagued her since the first time she'd done it. Harry looked her in the eyes. He placed his hands on her shoulders, and spoke in a very soft voice.

"I know what you mean Hermione. I hate it too, but we can't help it. Shadow Masters are a lot like werewolves when it comes to violence. We simply have to kill." Harry said. "Our thirst for death is very much like the Vampire's thirst for blood. It doesn't ever go away, but it can be temporarily satisfied."

That answered many questions for Hermione. "Will it ever stop?" She asked, almost afraid of the answer.

Harry smiled softly. "Yes it will. Our Shadow Master spirits are tied to Tom Riddles life force. Even though we don't serve him, he did call us. When his magic disappears from the earth, the spirits he called will leave this plane once again. When I kill Voldemort, we will be free of this curse. However, powerful as he may be, Voldemort is only one man. His real power comes from the hundreds of wizards at his disposal. We need to isolate him from them first. To do that, we kill off his circle. Doing that will satisfy our craving for death. It also makes it more difficult for him to enact his plans."

"I'm not sure I understand, Harry. If we kill Voldemort, then we'll be free, and the Death Eaters will disband once more. Why not just do that, and solve everyone's problem?" Hermione said. Harry sighed

"Think of Voldemort's group as a Hydra. Voldemort is the dominant head, right now. If we cut that head off, another head will take it's place, and change the whole Hydra's behavior." He said. "Voldemort may be the brains of the outfit, but he has almost no contact with anyone outside his inner circle. By killing the members of his circle, we eliminate twenty to thirty heads at once, since Voldemort has no way to control the people serving the circle member. He doesn't even know who they are."

Hermione nodded her understanding. "Ok, then let's talk about Theodore Nott Sr."

"Alright, then." Harry said, his mood turning sinister. "I changed the plan. Saturday at noon, outside Gringott's bank in Diagon Alley. Here's the plan…."

**

The Next Morning

**

Kingsley Shacklebolt burst into Albus Dumbledore's office, out of breath and panicking. "Albus, he doesn't work alone!" Albus stared at Kingsley for a moment, not sure what this was about. Comprehension came quickly, however, and his eyes widened at the implications.

"There are more than one of them?" He said. "How do you know this?"

"When we were examining Malfoy's body yesterday, we examined his wand hand very carefully. According to our forensic scientists, his hand was pierced by a throwing knife. While that is unusual, the knife came from Lucius Malfoy's right side. According to the examiners, Malfoy was drawing his wand when it happened. If he was facing his attacker, then the assassin had a partner." Kingsley said, laying all information on the table.

"This is bad. One Shadow Master is difficult to deal with, but two are almost impossible." Albus said, as he began writing letters. "I'm convening an Order meeting for Saturday night, at Ten P.M. Alert the others."

"How do we deal with them, Albus? Can they even be killed?"

"Yes, Kingsley. They are not immortal, nor are they invincible. They are almost invulnerable, however. They each have a Cloak of Shadows." Albus said, the twinkle absent from his eyes. "I will explain our predicament at the meeting."

"Good day, Albus." Kingsley said, walking towards the door.

"Be safe, Kingsley." Albus said, as he went back to his letter writing.

**

A/N: Ok, that was a fun chapter to write. Hopefully I answered some of your questions about shadow masters. If you have any more questions about them, put it in a review and I will try to answer it in future chapters. Just so you're not confused, there is a difference between invincible and invulnerable. Invincible means that they can not be harmed in any way. Invulnerable means that they are resistant to any kind of attack, with no specific weakness. I hope that helps. Next chapter will contain the death of Theodore Nott Sr.


	7. Chapter 06: The Death of Theodore Nott

A/N: I wanted to have this chapter up sooner, but I had to once again learn the first rule of writing on a computer. I forgot to save it, and the power kicked off at my house. I lost the entire thing. Don't pity me, but if you are writing anything, SAVE IT! Ok, now that I'm done with my pity party, we'll get into my real author's note. This, Ladies and Gentlemen, is my very favorite chapter so far. Recently, while writing some descriptions for the assassination of Theodore Nott, I discovered a sadistic side of my writing style worthy of the Dark Lord himself. Naturally, I had to use it. That said, this chapter is dark. In my opinion, it's worth every bit of the PG-13 rating I put on this story.

Enjoy my dark side. On with the story!

**

Chapter 06: The Death of Theodore Nott

**

Saturday was always a good day for Theodore Nott. He never had much to do on Saturday. Just go to the Ministry and get his paycheck, then head for Gringotts the deposit it. After that, he had the rest of the day to himself. Yes, Saturday was always a good day. Not this Saturday. Nott was feeling nervous today. He'd been a spy for the Dark Lord for several years, and had developed a sense of danger that was highly acute. Using the sense to its fullest had saved him from Azkaban. Now, as he picked up his check from his secretary, the feeling was starting to grow again. It was so small, however, that he brushed it off as nothing.

He couldn't brush it off, however, as he stepped out of the Ministry and headed for the Apparition point. The feeling spiked as he felt a figure come up beside him. Very nervous, Nott quickened his step, hoping the stranger wouldn't follow. The feeling spiked again as the figure stayed in step with him. Nott's stomach lurched as he tried to remain calm. He chanced a quick sideways glance at his unwanted companion. Bright blue combat robes, with some sort of symbol on the front. A black, hooded cloak, open in the front, with gold clasps at the shoulders.

The nervous feeling started to die down as the apparition point came into sight. The stranger would not try anything in this area, with people milling about everywhere. Nott continued walking quickly, but he started to relax a little. This proved to be a mistake. Just before he walked into the apparition area, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He froze, terrified. He quickly tried to look at his possible assailant, only to find out that he was unable to move. A very unpleasant feeling ripped through him. He felt like he'd just been…tasted?

The hand let go, and the hooded face leaned in close to his ear. "Enjoy your day off, Nott. I assure you that we will." It whispered, setting all the hairs on the back of Nott's neck straight up. Nott, still unable to move, watched as the figure walked into the apparition point, and vanished. Nott's legs almost fell out from under him as his ability to move returned.

To say Nott was disconcerted would be an understatement. He'd just had an encounter that terrified him as much as the Dark Lord, right in the middle of a crowded area, and not one person had noticed. Nott briefly considered heading straight home, but wanted his money safe in the bank first. He decided to continue to Gringotts, and then head home. He stepped into the Apparition point, and apparated to Diagon Alley.

Once he got there, Nott opened his sensed, and tried to feel the stranger. Nothing. Deciding that the stranger did not come here, Nott started walking towards the bank. It seemed, however, that the closer he got to the bank, the more jumpy he felt. It was like walking towards a presence in total darkness. Nott's eyes started frantically searching the street as he walked, looking for the source of the feeling.

Without any further warning, another hand was placed on his shoulder, and once again, Nott found himself unable to move. He now felt a similar, yet different, presence right behind him. Again, that feeling of being tasted ripped through him, as a female voice whispered in his ear. "Feeling nervous, Nott? Let me help." He suddenly felt a wand poke him in the back. "Stimulus!" The voice whispered. Every single one of Nott's sense kicked into overdrive.

Diagon Alley became a war zone for Nott's senses. He could smell the dirt, other people, food, and the apothecary down the street nearly knocked him out. The normally cheerful colors became sharp and hard, making his eyes water. Nott was in such a state that he couldn't even concentrate to remember the counter charm. A fly, buzzing in his ear almost made him scream. And worst of all, the danger sense, which had protected him for so long, was running out of control. Needless to say, Nott was in a state. He tried to calm himself down, but every sound, smell, and feeling was making him feel jumpier. Nott wanted so much to run inside the bank and hide, but he was out in public, and it would not do for a Ministry official to make a scene.

Nott made his way quickly into the bank, and paused to compose himself. Knowing that he was safe in the bank, he thought about the charm the strange woman had cast. The Stimulus charm was normally used on people suffering from ill-prepared sleeping potions and the like. Those people often suffered from a malady called sensory depression. Their senses didn't work well for 2 or 3 days after ingestion. The stimulus charm was a spell that enhances whatever sense does not work well. After thinking about it for a few moments, Nott realized that the effects of the spell were amplified on him because none of his senses were deficient, so the spell assumed that all senses were dulled. Filing that information away for later, Nott tried to remember the counter spell. His thoughts were still spinning, however, and he could not bring the spell to mind.

Deciding that it wasn't life threatening, Nott decided to wait until he got home to look up the counter charm. Five minutes later, and after losing the contents of his stomach, Nott decided that this had been a bad idea. The cart ride in Gringotts was a gut-wrenchingly fast and lurching ride today, thanks to the heightened senses. Nott was extremely sick by the time he got out of Gringotts. He decided to kill the next stranger he met, very slowly.

Walking out of Gringotts, Nott's senses went haywire again, the many noises, smells, and sights made him so confused that he didn't even notice the figure walking next to him until he felt another hand on his shoulder, and a wand jammed into his ribs. The voice was once again the man from the Ministry. "Having fun, Nott. Don't bother answering. Vocatus Restricto!" Nott felt his vocal chords freeze. Nott was now terrified. The voice freezing charm was designed by medi-wizards to stop their patients from damaging their vocal chords during the more painful restorative operations. Like an advance version of a silencing charm, Nott could make no sound. However, this spell went one better. Nott's vocal chords were paralyzed, meaning he could not even form the correct syllables. This meant that any magic he could use would have to be completely without incantations. The problem was, Nott didn't know any spells he could cast without incantation.

Abandoning all pretense, Nott ran for the Apparition point. He was almost there, when he was tripped most unexpectedly. Not went sprawling across the ground, and drew some attention. He was just about a meter away from the apparition platform. He glanced up, and saw that someone was offering a hand. Relieved he took it. Standing up, he found himself being forcibly pulled onto the platform, and once again felt that horrible sensation of being tasted rip through his body, multiplied by the stimulus charm placed on him. He felt another wand being pressed into his stomach. "You've been fun, Nott. Have a lovely nightmare! Corpicus Transfiguro!" With that spell as an epitaph, the corpse of Theodore Nott collapsed onto the apparition platform.

The witnesses to the crime stood stunned for a moment, not comprehending what had just happened. After shaking themselves out of their stupor, they ran over to the body of Theodore Nott, and checked him for any pulse. He had none. When the aurors arrived to investigate, they found a small note pinned to the outside of Nott's robes.

Sleep well, Theodore Nott 

_Nightmare & Dreem_

_Imperial Dragon Circle_

**

Back in Harry's room at Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione were arguing with each other. It seems there was a disagreement involving the late Theodore Nott.

"Harry, why didn't we just kill him outright? It would have been much easier." Hermione said, just a little bit put out.

"Because Hermione, it will have much more impact on the other groups if we can manipulate somebody else to unwittingly do our work for us." Harry replied, following up the remark with a devilish grin.

"I still don't…" Hermione trailed off as her eyes fluttered shut, and a sensation of pleasure washed over both of them. "What was that, Harry?"

"That was Theodore Nott experiencing magical shock." Harry said, still feeling tingly from the experience. "Nott's brain was so confused about the signals it was receiving, it let out almost all of his magic in a unfocused wave. Give it about a minute."

One minute later, they experienced the same feeling once again, followed by a feeling of satiation. Theodore Nott was dead at last.

"Now," said Harry, "Lets go find Ron and Lavender. We should study for our transfiguration test on Tuesday." Hermione followed him out of his room, and down to the Gryffindor common room.

**

"Good evening my friends, let's call this meeting to order." Said Albus Dumbledore, looking rather grave. "We are here tonight to discuss the assassins of the Imperial Dragon Circle. At our last meeting I identified one of them as a Shadow Master, which is a type of demon. Recent intelligence indicates that there are two Shadow Masters acting as assassins for the Imperial Dragon Circle. This is a very dangerous situation, for many reasons. We need a way to determine who has summoned these demons, so that we may put a stop to them. It will be easier for me to explain the situation if you ask me questions, and I answer them. The floor is open."

Nymphadora Tonks stood. "Why is it important to know who summoned them? Why can't we just take them out?"

Severus Snape was the one to answer that question. "The Shadow Master demon, once summoned is bound to the summoner. The only way to 'take them out' is to either kill the summoner, or use his blood in a ritual to dispel them." Severus paused, then continued. "The only plus side to them, is that whoever summoned them will be a squib for a long period of time. The amount of Magic it takes to summon and incorporate two Shadow Masters will sap all magic from the summoner for many years" This revelation seemed to shock the Order, for everyone started whispering to each other.

"Correct, Severus, but the situation is more dangerous than that." Said Albus, shocking the Order back into silence. "The reference material on Shadow Masters in the Restricted Section of the library states quite clearly that Shadow Masters, while being powerfully magical, have no ability to cast spells." The crowd gasped. "At the last meeting, we witnessed our guest conjure a ball of light. This suggests a modified ritual. I need to know how the ritual could be modified. Severus and Remus, I need you to research the ritual, and hypothesize how it may have been altered. The rest of you, I need you to keep an eye out for the demons, and try to find out who their master is." Albus was about to release the Order, when Elphias Doge burst through the door. He was pale, and trembling. It was obvious that he'd been through something awful. "Elphias, what has happened?"

"We just found evidence of an additional pair of Circle assassins. Their names are Nightmare and Dreem, and they truly are monsters." Elphias said. He looked like he was going to be sick, but continued. "Today at 12:14 PM, Nightmare and Dreem assaulted and killed Theodore Nott Sr. Aurors found his body on the Diagon Alley apparition platform."

Elphias was still shaking, but Albus really wanted this information. "What was the cause of death, Elphias? Same method of operation as before?"

"Not even close, Albus." Elphias said, his voice still shaking. "Our initial examination of the body, revealed the traces of a stimulus charm, and a vocal chord restriction charm. The examiners were told to discover what killed him by tonight, so they started an autopsy of the body, to discern whether a poison was used. When I arrived, the pathologists had already opened Nott's chest cavity, and they came across a strange liquid inside his veins. They opened his aorta, and drained some of the fluid, to test it. The result of the test showed that it was formaldehyde, or what muggles call embalming fluid. The test also indicated that it was transfigured. Since formaldehyde is toxic, the pathologists decided that the cause of death was transfigured blood." After speaking those words, Elphias paled considerably, and started to turn green. "Excuse me for a moment!" He bolted for the bathroom.

Five minutes later, Elphias returned. "As you know, once a cause of death has been determined, the body is cleansed of all magic before the body made available for the family to make arrangements for a funeral. This, unfortunately, includes reversing any transfiguration done to the body." Elphias shuddered at the thought. " When the pathologist reversed the transfiguration, they realized they had made a terrible mistake. The assassin had not transfigured Nott's blood; they had transfigured Nott himself. They turned him into a corpse. When the transfiguration was reversed, Nott's body convulsed, his heart started beating, and he started screaming. He bled to death on the operating table in just under 10 seconds."

By the time Elphias was finished talking, everyone in the room looked sick, even Snape. The Order left that night was shocked, confused, and afraid.

**

A/N: Whoa! This chapter was the hardest one yet! I hope everyone enjoyed Nightmare and Dreem. Send me a review with comments!

Responses:

**Morgana:** Nope, Ron is not a Shadow Master. I'm going into that later, but I have a plan for our friendly neighborhood redhead.

**Prd2bAmerican18:** Well, you're going to have to! I have that set for a much later chapter. It wouldn't be good to play all my cards at once, now would it?

**Jess16:** I'm so glad you like it! Thank you for all of your reviews so far, it means a lot to me that you reviewed every chapter.

**Raven Dragonclaw: **I can't believe you like my story! That makes me feel special. Your story is one of my current favorites, and hearing that you like my story means a lot to me. Thanks so much!


	8. Chapter 07: Tea with Voldemort

A/N: Wow! I never expected that kind of response to my dark side. Everyone seemed to enjoy Nightmare and Dreem. My friend Noctem asked me if there was a reason that Dreem's name was misspelled. The answer to that question is simple: Yes there is. I wanted it to be a name, not just a word, so I changed its spelling. Call it artistic license. Ok, time to get into it. This is going to be a fun chapter. In this chapter, we're going to be filling Voldemort in on some of the information that he doesn't have. Now that my dark side has made itself known, I can't seem to stop myself from using it. Have fun reading this. I'm playing with my formatting a little, so this chapter may look a little different than the others. If it works, I'm going to change the others to match.

**

Chapter 07: Tea with Voldemort

**

"It's strange." John Simons, criminal investigator with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, mused, looking at the parchment in front of him. "Nott was killed in the middle of a crowded street, in broad daylight, and there were no witnesses! We find wand signatures, but we have no records of wand patterns that are even similar to these! Jane! I'm going to see Ollivander." His secretary nodded, and wished him luck.

            Ollivander's was exactly how Simons remembered it. It had been a while since he'd entered the store, but it looked like nothing had been moved. For some odd reason, Simons felt like he was in a library. "Mr. Ollivander?" Simons called, bringing the wand maker from the back room.

            "Mr. Simons, I presume? Fourteen Inches, Oak, with the heartstring of a particularly strong Dragon, if I remember correctly." Ollivander said, with that look of his that always made Simons feel like he was being x-rayed. "Nothing wrong, I hope?"

            "Mr. Ollivander, I was wondering if you'd take a look at this." Simons said, handing Ollivander the parchment with the wand data. "The patterns don't even resemble any cores we've ever seen, so I brought it to you. You are the expert on wands around here. Anything you recognize?"

            Mr. Ollivander studied the parchment for a great length of time, before handing it back. "I don't recognize the patterns, although I can give you a few clues as to where to look." He said, opening a rather large reference book. "The wands are not made of wood. It is some sort of unnatural substance that I don't recognize. The core patterns are unfamiliar, but I can tell you that the creature they came from is very large, and powerfully magical. I can also tell you that the creature had been dead for some time before the cores were taken from it."

            "How did you come to these conclusions, Mr. Ollivander?" Simons asked, pulling out his notebook. These clues were important, and would help the aurors track down the killers. With any luck, they could catch the criminals before anyone else got murdered.

            "Well, these patterns here are meant to represent how the wood from a wand conducts the magic through it." Mr. Ollivander said, pointing to a set of patterns on the left hand side of the parchment. "Normally, the patterns skew themselves, depending on the grain of the wood. These patterns are perfectly uniform, indicating that there is no grain in the wand. Since all wood has grain, the wand was not made of wood."

            "And the cores?" Simons asked, as he hurriedly wrote down what Mr. Ollivander was saying.

            "Well, as I said before, I don't recognize the particular pattern, but this indicator here points to a very large creature being the donor." Mr. Ollivander said, pointing to a different area of the parchment. "I see that pattern most often using wands made of dragon heartstring. Using those wands, I also see this pattern, which shows me that the cells of the magical creature are no longer alive, but merely infused with magic." Mr. Ollivander paused so Mr. Simons could finish writing. "Phoenix feathers and Unicorn hairs retain life after they're inserted into the wands. The magic of the creatures sustain them. Dragon heartstrings are taken after the beast is dead. The wand core is no longer alive, but since dragons are such powerful magical creatures, the wand core still retains most of its magical properties. That particular pattern is similar to dragon heartstring, but the rest of them are very different. I have records in my shop going back to the time of the founders. I will look through them for you, and see if I can't solve your little mystery for you." Mr. Ollivander looked very excited by the prospect of checking his backlog.

            "Thank you, Mr. Ollivander. Any idea how long this will take? We would like to resolve this issue as quickly as possible." Simons said, finishing his notes, and putting his notebook away.

            "Oh, not too long. Probably no more than two weeks." Mr. Ollivander said, pulling more books off the shelf.

            "Thank you, sir. I'll be on my way. Send an owl when you have something." Mr. Ollivander nodded. And Simons left the store.

**

"Did you send the invitation?" Harry said, checking his watch. It was ten minutes until midnight, and Harry was standing in the middle of Stonehenge. In front of him was a table, with a tea setting for two.

            "Of course I did.  And don't worry; he'll be here. I didn't exactly give him a choice. It'll be a real treat to see him flustered." Hermione said. "The owl should have arrived by now, so I'll cast my monitoring spell, and get out of here." Hermione took a crystal out of her pocket, cast a spell on it, and set it on the table. "There we go. Good luck, Harry." Hermione kissed him, and then melted into the shadows, disappearing back to Hogwarts.

**

The intrepid owl flew over the countryside, homing in on the recipient of its message. As she drew closer, the sense told her where to go. She flew in the window of the old house, and down the hallway. In the door, and onto the back of a large wooden throne, covered with carvings of snakes. A skeletal hand with long, spidery fingers reached out and plucked the envelope from the brave owl. It's message delivered, the owl took off, getting as far away from the evil presence as she could, and as quickly as was possible.

            Opening the envelope, Lord Voldemort was surprised to see a brightly colored card, with pictures of fireworks and confetti strewn about it, with the words "You're Invited!" printed on it. Opening the invitation he was even more surprised at the words inside.

Tom Marvolo Riddle 

_            The Imperial Dragon Circle wishes to meet with you, regarding certain issues facing the Wizarding world. These issues include the Order of the Phoenix, the Ministry of Magic, and our respective groups. This will be an informational meeting, to bring you up to speed on the situation. After all, we wouldn't want you falling behind, now would we? Details will be following, and it is not necessary to RSVP to our invitation. We look forward to having tea with you._

_Imperial Dragon Circle_

            So, they wanted to meet. Well, he would meet with them, but on his terms. There was no way he would willingly enter a situation that he could not control. As he pondered the invitation, Voldemort began to study it. The outside of the invitation didn't move, although it looked very much like the invitation to a party. Something funny about it, though. Voldemort turned the card over, and looked at the back. There, plain as the lack of nose on his face, was a Hallmark emblem. (A/N: I am American, and have no idea what company is the biggest card manufacturer in Great Britain, so bear with me.) Hallmark? That didn't sound like any wizard company he'd ever heard of.

            Pondering that for a moment, Voldemort's eyes narrowed, and he hissed in outrage. The insolent fools had sent him a _muggle_ card! The nerve of these upstarts! He'd show them! Whoever met him would die very painfully, in front of all of his Death Eaters. Voldemort held the letter in one hand, and drew his wand. Pointing his wand at the invitation, he hissed "Incendio!"

            Rather than have the satisfaction of watching the cursed muggle paper burn, Voldemort felt a jerk behind his navel, and felt himself being pulled through space. He mentally berated himself for his impulsiveness, and then prepared to meet and intimidate the Imperial Dragon Circle. After all, he was the most powerful sorcerer in the world.

**

Harry's scar began to tingle, and he knew that Voldemort was on the way. He quickly assumed the persona of Nytemare, and threw up his mental shields. The tingle stopped, and Nytemare's mind was completely closed off. He waited for a few moments, and then saw Voldemort appear out of nowhere, and land on his backside with a rather undignified thump. He must have been sitting down when it activated, Nytemare mused. He fought to keep a straight face.

            "Ah, Lord Riddle. I'm pleased that you decided to join me for tea." Nytemare said, laughter evident in his voice, although his face was hidden under his hood. Voldemort struggled to stand up, and tried rather valiantly to regain some of his dignity. His back to Nytemare, Voldemort stood to his full height, and turned slowly. Looking at Nytemare, his red eyes glittered with malice, and his body radiated power. To a lesser wizard, the effect would have been terrifying, but Nytemare stood firm, decidedly unimpressed by the theatrics. "You may call me Nytemare, Lord Riddle. Have a seat, and help yourself to tea."

            "You will address me as Lord Voldemort, you insolent little mongrel!" Riddle yelled, his voice furious, his hand reaching for his wand.

            "I'm afraid that I can't do that, your Lordship." Nytemare responded, completely unmoved. "Flame and Blade would have a fit if I addressed you by the name of their master." Riddle's scarlet eyes went wide, and his lipless mouth opened in disbelief. "Do have some tea, Lord Riddle. Toxis made it extra special, just for you."

            Stunned by the new information, Voldemort had been reaching for the tea without thinking about it. However, when the name of the tea brewer sank in, his hand froze. "Convey my apologies to Toxis, but I prefer my own special blend." Voldemort said, as he conjured his own tea. No way would he allow these people to poison him.

            "Suit yourself, your Lordship. I will convey the message." Nytemare said, as he poured himself a cup of tea. "Well, let's get cracking shall we?" Voldemort was about to pick up his tea, when the table shook, and both tea cups rattled on their saucers.

            "What was that?" Voldemort asked, his scarlet eyes trying to pierce the darkness under Nytemare's hood.

            "Sorry about that. I accidentally kicked the table." Nytemare responded. Voldemort used his talent but the answer seemed truthful. Nytemare picked up his tea, and sipped it carefully. "I must ask Toxis for this recipe. It is quite good. Now, you were brought here so that I could explain the situation to you. As you already know, I represent the Imperial Dragon Circle. What we stand for is still a mystery, and I don't intend to give it away. What is important, however, is what we are doing in relation to the other three major powers in the Wizarding world. In our opinion, the Ministry of Magic is too powerful in everyday aspects of our lives, but far from effective when real situations present themselves."

            "What are you doing about that?" Voldemort asked. "All I see so far is you killing off my servants."

            "We are presenting them with a real problem. This will make them stop prying into our lives on a daily basis, and put their focus back where it belongs. Don't worry, Lord Riddle, your servants are not the only names on our hit list." Nytemare said, his voice showing excitement. Voldemort was calculating, and made no response to this.

            "The Order of the Phoenix may fight for a noble cause, but their methods are weak, and their leader is manipulative." Nytemare continued, noting the calculating eyes of the man across the table. "People listen to Albus Dumbledore, and always do as he wishes. He rarely explains his reasons, even to the people affected by his scheming. In many ways, his group is like yours in their devotion to him. They also insist on interfering with things they have no power over. Certain members of that group are also on our list."

            Voldemort was still calculating, so he asked a question. "What things are they sticking their nose in? I thought they were only opposing me."

            "That is exactly what I'm referring to." Nytemare said, his voice laced with just a touch of venom. "It is known to our circle that you have targeted the Potter boy. Eventually, Harry Potter and yourself will face each other in a duel. One of you will live, and the other will die. The Order seeks to dictate when and where the duel will happen. Previous years have shown that they cannot control the situations Harry Potter gets into, and the battle between yourself and Harry Potter is none of their concern."

            "What do you intend to do about them?" Voldemort asked. This group seemed to share his views on many subjects. Perhaps he would be able to convince them to follow him. It was just a matter of manipulation.

            "We intend to run them ragged. Push them to the brink of sanity, and keep them there. We're going to make sure that they can't interfere in things that aren't their business." Nytemare said. The bluntness of his statement shocked Voldemort, but it was masterfully hidden.

            "Then why not join my group. With our combined strength, we would be unstoppable. All the power you desire could be yours, if you serve me." Voldemort said, his red eyes shining with anticipation.

            "Sadly Lord Riddle, your group has been targeted for elimination. You gain power through violence, and the Imperial Dragon Circle will not stand for it. We are going to systematically eliminate your entire support structure, and then utterly destroy you." Nytemare said, his voice betraying no emotion.

            Voldemort was furious, but hid his fury behind his next question. "If that's so, why would you tell me your plan? Surely you don't believe yourselves to stand a chance against my power? I assure you, boy, that I am the most powerful sorcerer in the world. You would do well to align yourself with me." Voldemort said, his voice icy, and body once again radiating power. Nytemare remained sitting, and still appeared unmoved.

            "I agree with you, Lord Riddle—" Nytemare started, but was cut off by Voldemort.

            "Why do you keep calling me that?" He asked. The question was pure curiosity. Nytemare seemed to feel no fear towards the Dark Lord, and refused to address him by Voldemort, but still allowed him the title and respect of 'Lord'.

            "Your inheritance, Lord Riddle. The title is yours, as the heir of Lord Salazar Slytherin. The name Voldemort, however, is not yours. In the eyes of magic you are, and always will be, Lord Tom Marvolo Riddle. In the framework of magic, one cannot simply decide on a new name." Nytemare said, taking another sip of his tea. "Which is why the Shadow Masters that you called are not loyal to you. You called them to serve Lord Voldemort, who does not exist in their eyes. So, they are allowed their own ways. We employ them as assassins."

            "I wish to meet them. They will obey me." Voldemort said. "I called them, they must obey!" His voice rose in pitch toward the end, so that his last word sounded more like a shriek.

            "Perhaps another time, your Lordship. Now, as I was saying, I agree with your position. You may very well be the most powerful sorcerer in the world. However, the assassins for the circle are the six most powerful magical entities on the planet right now" Nytemare said, ignoring the angry gaze of the Dark Lord. It wasn't a lie. Since the six assassins were in actuality only two people, neither of them human, the statement was factual, even if it was misleading.

            "Explain yourself, you ingrate! If I'm the most powerful sorcerer in the world, how can there be a more powerful one?" Voldemort yelled, his temper finally besting his control.

            "Simple, Lord Riddle. You are the most powerful Sorcerer in the world. Sorcery is not the only type of magic, nor is it the most powerful. Venificus and Toxis are Enchanters. They combine small, separately enchanted objects, and combine the spells, and come up with lovely poisons, and many other deadly objects." Nytemare paused as Voldemort took another sip of his tea, this one much longer than the last few. "Dreem and myself are Technomancers. We combine magic and technology, to kill people in ways nobody ever dreamed of before. We are the ones responsible for Nott's death yesterday. Flame and Blade, as you already know, are Shadow Masters. Not strong spell casters, but powerfully magical, and very violent. You have them to thank for Malfoy and Avery."

            Voldemort was shocked. They admitted his superiority, and then turned it into an insult! He finished his tea, and stood, pulling his wand in the process. "I will give you one chance, join me or die." Just as he finished those words however, all the strength in his body seemed to leave him. He fell to his knees, and dropped his wand.

            "Oh my word, Lord Riddle. You seem to have taken ill. I knew I shouldn't have used that switching spell to swap your tea and mine. I'm truly sorry. I'll make it up to you someday, provided the poison doesn't kill you." Nytemare said, but he didn't sound at all sorry. "Well, I believe that my point is clear. You, Lord Riddle will die soon. The poison may not do it tonight, but don't get too comfortable with this life, we're sending you to the next one soon."

            Nytemare grabbed a small crystal on the table, and disappeared. Voldemort raised his wand using all his strength, and disapparated back to his lair. The dragons would pay for this, as soon as the poison was flushed from his system.

**

Harry and Hermione went to sleep that night, contented and happy. Voldemort was angry at his helplessness, and it would take him some time to regain his magical ability. The poison they used was specifically designed to sap his magic for twenty-one days. No matter what happened tomorrow, nothing could stop their smiles tonight.

**

A/N: Whoo! That was the longest chapter I ever wrote! For those of you who don't understand why Harry didn't kill Voldemort in this chapter, I'll explain it. Voldemort has to be killed publicly this time, or nobody will believe he's gone. Another Death Eater can take his place, and continue his work. If Nytemare had done it right then, it would have been wrong from a political standpoint. Ok, now that I've said that I have a question for my faithful reviewers. In this chapter, I changed the spelling of Nytemare's name. Should I keep it like this, and change other chapters, or change his name back to the original in this chapter. Review my story! I love you all!


	9. Chapter 08: Bang Head on Desk

A/N: Alright, my intrepid bunch of readers, it is time once again for a boring chapter. There has been some confusion as to how the whole summoning ritual happened, and how our friendly neighborhood Dark Lord screwed it up. Well, in the last chapter, Voldemort got a lot of information, including the news that two of the assassins were his creations. This little chapter should go a ways to help you understand why he was given that information. I hope you like magical theory, boys and girls, because it's time for school!

**Blank_eyes:** Think about the Marauders map for a moment. The map shows your identity, but how? I have to think that when your parents name you, the name is legally (and in this case, magically) bonded to you. I'm going on assumption that the map can read magical signatures, and equates them to a name. Since Tom Riddle is the name bonded to the Dark Lord, any rituals that end in "I bind you to the service of…" would require him to give his real name. You'll see his mistake in this chapter. I hope I answered your questions. About the conversation…it made sense to me! I really don't know what to say about it.

**Hermionegreen: **I had to tell him about the bond so that he **would** try to fix his mistake. Don't worry, my friend, all will be made clear soon enough!

**

Chapter 08: Bang Head on Desk

**

Rituals were the most potent form of dark magic. Using ritual magic, one could summon demons, bind enemies, and create hybrid creatures. Anything a Dark Lord's mind could dream up, a ritual could probably accomplish. Naturally, being a Dark Lord, Voldemort had a very large collection of books containing ritual spells.

The problem with ritual magic was the sacrifice the caster must make. For each ritual performed, the caster would be required to sacrifice something. Many of the more powerful rituals would require blood sacrifices to be made. That was why they were considered dark magic. After all, nobody would willingly die to help someone become more powerful. Cut off a hand, perhaps, but not kill themself.

The ritual used to summon Shadow Masters was far more advanced, and far more devious than a mere blood sacrifice. The summoner would have to sacrifice all of their magical power for a period of twelve years. The ritual was indeed devious, making sure that, while the demons would be dangerous, the caster would not. Voldemort was not prepared to lose his power for that long, so he modified the ritual. It seemed, at the time, that the modified ritual had failed. Now, it looked more like his ritual had succeeded, but his Shadow Masters were flawed.

Voldemort was going through his text on summoning demons, trying to understand what went wrong. He was going through each line of the ritual, and his level of anxiety went up with each line read.

**When summoning Shadow Master demons, great care must be taken to make sure that both the observers of the ritual, and the participants of the ritual are loyal to the summoner. If the observers are not loyal, the demons will rampage once summoned. If the participants are not loyal, the demons will not come.**

Voldemort had written a note to himself in the margin of the page. It said, simply, 'Imperius curse will ensure unwavering loyalty during the ritual.' Voldemort searched his memory, and remembered with fondness casting the curse on every one of his followers. He would do it again, once this horrible potion wore off. Wormtail had summoned faithful Severus. The potions master would be able to counter the effects. Tuning back to the book, Voldemort continued reading.

**Summoning Shadow Master demons require a sacrifice of pure magic. The amount of magic required to summon and incorporate the demons is equivalent to the summoner's magical potential for twelve years.**

That was unacceptable to Voldemort, so he had altered the ritual to become a calling ritual. Calling rituals brought demons to earth by possessing human bodies. No big problems there, except that the demons had not chosen the bodies he had set up for them. Apparently, the demons would not possess bodies rendered soulless by dementors. Voldemort scanned down the page, until he caught a passage that made his eyes widen.

**Names are very important when dealing with Shadow Master demons. When summoned, the demons must be told who their master is by name. Once bound to the master, the master will give each Shadow Master a name. Once the naming is complete, the shadow master demon will obey ONLY their master. They will listen to the summoner, but only if he names them correctly. Until they are properly named, the demons will kill indiscriminately, following only their whims.**

That was not good. According to Nytemare, the master recognized by the Shadow Masters was none other than Lord Voldemort. The problem was, they didn't recognize HIM as Lord Voldemort. More research was required, but Voldemort didn't have the time. Wormtail was knocking. That meant Severus had arrived.

"Enter." He hissed at the door, which swung open, admitting two masked figures. The first was short and fat, a waste of space with a silver hand, called Wormtail. The second, however, was the man whom Voldemort desired to speak to. "Wormtail, leave us." Wormtail groveled his thanks and left quickly.

Severus dropped to his knees in front of the Dark Lord. "You summoned me, my master?" He said, looking at the ground.

"Yes, I did, Severus. I have a problem that I need you to take care of for me. It seems that my useless servant wormtail has gone and made himself even more useless. He came across a teacup, and drank from it without bothering to find out what was in it. In the teacup was a potion designed to damper magical potential. As a result, Wormtail now finds himself unable to perform any complex spells. That, unfortunately, includes his animagus form." Voldemort was lying through his teeth, but there was no reason to let one of his most powerful followers know that he was, at present, a magical invalid.

"What do you wish of me, my Lord?" Severus asked, fearing the worst.

"Quite simple, Severus. I am going to give you a sample of the potion, and you are going to deconstruct it, find a counter potion, and bring it to me." Voldemort said. Suddenly his eyes flashed, and he snarled. "You have one week."

It was worse than Snape had expected. Complete reverse engineering, research in countering, and experimental mixing. In one week, at that. However, Voldemort's mood told him quite clearly that to question or to refuse would mean a painful death. "Of course, my Lord. Any other tasks?"

"One simple one, Severus. Write young Malfoy a pass to the restricted section of the library. I need him to research Rituals for controlling Shadow Master demons." Voldemort said. Snape's face paled. "It seems the demons that I summoned refuse to obey me. They are, however, my demons, and I will take control of them. Tell young Malfoy that he has the same deadline as you."

"Thank you, Master. I shall deliver the message." Snape bowed, picked up the teapot full of potion, and left. Oh did he have news for Albus.

**

A/N: I am slowly fitting pieces together. I hope this chapter clears up some of the questions you had about my story. For an explanation about how names work inbside magic, read what I told Blank_eyes at the top of this chapter. Review my story, so I know what to add into the next chapter. It should be fun. Harry will have Potions Class!!!!


	10. Chapter 09: Potions Class, Round One

Ok, my faithful followers of the Fourth Power. (I love alliteration!) I know the last chapter was short, but it wasn't really a chapter. When I wrote the previous chapter, I had originally intended to go straight into this one, but that confused even me, and I'm writing it! I put in that little interlude chapter to bridge the gap between the chapters. I hope that you guys enjoy reading this, much longer, chapter. N.E.W.T. Potions promises to be interesting today…. On with the story!!

**

Chapter 09: Potions Class, Round One

**

            "Albus, I need a substitute for my class for the next week. The Dark Lord has given me a task, and one week to complete it." Professor Snape was saying to the headmaster. "It will be nearly impossible to accomplish the task without classes, but truly impossible if I have to worry about teaching my class as well."

            "I understand, Severus." Albus said. "I will make arrangements for a substitute teacher, starting tomorrow. I must ask you to teach for today, however."

            Remembering that he only had one class to teach today, Snape agreed. "Perhaps I will use them to my advantage. They will help me analyze the potion." He said. "It will make my job that much easier."

**

As it turned out, Harry and Hermione's good mood only lasted until the morning. They had thought that disabling Voldemort for a short period of time would raise their spirits enough that they could be happy until at least Wednesday. However, when Hermione woke up, she checked her class schedule. Monday morning, right after breakfast, was the one thing absolutely guaranteed to make their good mood disappear. They had Potions!

Harry and Hermione were the only Gryffindors still in Professor Snape's potions class, the rest deciding that the torment wasn't worth the effort. Arriving on time, they were surprised to see Snape waiting for the bell. Normally he arrived at the bell, so that he could catch late students at the door, and humiliate them before taking points. Taking their seats, they waited for him to start class. What he said surprised them.

"Students, today will be a very practical lesson. Over the last five years, I have taught you several ways to find out exactly what ingredients are in a potion." Professor Snape said, his eyes scanning the classroom. When his eyes landed on Harry, his face twisted into a sneer. "The Ministry of Magic has discovered a possibly dangerous potion lurking in a tea kettle in the kitchens. This potion seems to stifle magical ability. The Potions Master at the Ministry has enlisted my help to reverse-engineer this potion, in hopes of discovering a counter-potion. Using what you've learned in the last five years, you are to deconstruct this potion to the best of your ability." Professor Snape passed out five shot-glass sized amounts of the potion, one to each table. "Work in pairs. You have four hours, now begin."

Harry and Hermione, being Shadow Masters, were much more in-tune with magic. They both closed their eyes, and tried to feel the magic emanating from the potion. Potions were usually very difficult to feel because the magic was contained. However, as soon as they started to feel the potion, they noticed that its magical field was much stronger than it should be. They also recognized the pattern of the magic as the enchanted potion that they had concocted for Voldemort the day before. Naturally, Harry found this more than a little bit funny.

"Hey Hermione." Harry whispered, so as not to draw Snape's attention. "Do you think Voldemort is having Nightmares?" It was the worst pun imaginable, in the worst possible place to say it. Of course, that also made it incredibly funny to Hermione, who couldn't help but laugh at him. Harry pulled his wand and pointed it at the potion, just as Snape turned to look at them.

"Ms. Granger, what is it that you find so amusing about this assignment?" He asked. "And Mr. Potter, why are you waving your wand about?" He sneered his question to Harry.

Hermione spoke first. "Sorry Professor. Harry said something to me, and for some reason I thought it was funny. It really wasn't, and I do apologize for disturbing the class."

Snape rounded on Harry. "Really. Mr. Potter, perhaps you would like to let the rest of the class in on the joke, if it's that funny." Harry set his wand down on the table.

"Actually Professor, I didn't mean to say anything funny. When I made the discovery, I was so surprised that I just said the first thing that came into my head." Harry said, trying, and failing miserably, to look apologetic.

"Really, Mr. Potter? And what, may I ask was the first thing that came into your head?" Snape looked like he was hoping it was something derogatory, so he could give Harry a detention.

"I said 'With all the enchantments on this potion, I wouldn't be surprised if this project gives Snape Nightmares.' I was being serious, but I guess I can see the humor in it." Harry smiled, but Snape's mouth had fallen open. Whatever it was he thought he would hear, it wasn't that.

"Enchantments, Potter?" He said, trying to regain his composure. "Explain yourself."

"Well sir, I cast a forensic recognition spell to show me any patterns in the potion that closely matched any of the potions we've done in the past. I thought that if the potion had similar patterns, it would help discover what ingredients were used. Rather than get the pattern of a potion, I found seventeen different dormant enchantments." Harry said, sounding an awful lot like Hermione. "I was so surprised, I wasn't thinking about what I said."

Snape was quite shaken. Enchantment was a very obscure branch of magic that had gone almost unused for the last three hundred years with objects, and had never been recorded being used in conjunction with brewing potions. Brewing a counter-potion was going to be impossible! Snape's mind was whirling, but nothing prepared him for what came next. Hermione spoke up.

"Please Professor, when Harry cast his spell the enchantments lifted away, so I cast the same spell, to try and see what the potion was. It was a strength sapping potion, like we learned in third year." She said. "I think the enchantments must modify the potion to sap magical ability, rather than physical strength."

Snape had regained his composure while Hermione was speaking, and was now more than just a bit suspicious to the pair of Gryffindors. Harry had spent the last five years barely passing potions, then disappeared over the summer. Thanks to Dumbledore Snape knew that, wherever Harry had been, he was with Hermione. Here in his class, the pair was showing knowledge of a magic that nobody currently practiced. Obviously, at least to Snape, they had undergone some type of training over the summer. He decided to find out what happened, and since he disliked Harry, he was going to make him tell.

"Mr. Potter," He began in his silkiest voice, which Harry immediately picked up on. "I'm interested to know why it is that you decided to check for the magical patterns, considering that Hogwarts doesn't cover forensic trace reading. Where did you learn to do that?" He knew that Harry would defend himself, and probably let something slip.

Harry was fully aware that Snape was trying to bait him into saying something to give him a clue about his summer studies, so he responded simply. "I learned it over the summer."

"Really?" Snape questioned. "And who taught it to you? I would like to speak to them about this potion." Ha! If he could get Harry to tell him who his teacher was, he could find out where Harry had been, and what he was taught over the summer.

"I'm sorry, Professor. My teachers asked us to keep their identities secret. I would be betraying their trust if I were to tell you." Harry responded. Snape had initiated this little conflict, but Harry had every intention of coming out on top of it. "But this potion does remind me of one of the lessons…" Harry said to himself, knowing that Snape would hear him, and undoubtedly take the bait.

"Is that so, Mr. Potter? Well, in that case, I'm afraid that I must insist that you tell me the identity of this teacher." Snape said. Now that he knew that Harry had the information he needed, he was confident that he could get the information from him, even if he had to take it by force.

"Sorry Professor, but I will not give you the information you seek. I told them that I would respect their privacy, and I will not willingly give that information up." Harry said, his eyes full of defiance.

Snape was waiting for this moment. Now that Harry had refused, Snape was free to humiliate him in front of the class. "I'm afraid that it isn't up for discussion, Potter. I need that information, and I'll get it from you, even if I have to take by force." Snape pulled his wand. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Knock yourself out, Professor." Was all Harry said.

"Very well, Potter, you leave me no choice." Snape pointed his wand at Harry's head, and Harry had just enough time to hear Malfoy snicker before Snape said the magic word. "Legilimens!"__

_A large round steel door, very much like one of the vaults at Gringotts stood before him. He reached to turn the handle but found himself unable to touch the door. This memory was very strange. Suddenly, Harry appeared right in front of him. Ok, this was getting stranger. Snape was not prepared for Harry to speak to him._

_"What do you think of this, Professor?" Harry said, looking extremely smug. "I've been working on my Occlumency all summer." Oh, so that was it. Harry had brought his mental shields to bear. Snape tried to end the spell, but found himself unable to. "You're not going to disappear on me now, are you Professor? Not until I push you out, anyway."_

_Snape wasn't sure where this was going, but he didn't like it one bit. Suddenly, Harry brought his hand from behind his back. He seemed to be wearing a large padded mitten. Snape wondered for a moment what he was doing, but when Harry assumed a fighting stance, it became clear. Snape tried once again to end the spell, but wasn't able to._

_"Well, if you want out of my head so bad, I guess I can accommodate." Harry said, with a devilish grin. Quick as anything, Harry let fly with the padded mitten. Snape felt himself drop out of Harry's head, and then drop like a stone to the floor of his classroom._

No more than a second later, Snape was on his feet, although he was a bit shaky. He was also mad as a Hornet. Harry's next words made him lose it completely.

"I didn't mean literally, Professor." He said, with that same devilish grin. Snape was livid. The boy had not only prevented him access to the secret, but had made him look like a fool in front of his class.

"POTTER! HEADMASTER'S OFFICE! NOW!" He yelled, heading towards the door. "Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy, keep an eye on the class. I will be back soon."

The walk from the dungeons to the Headmasters Office took very little time. Harry was grinning like mad, and Snape was trying to stop himself from attacking Harry. Snape gave the password, and up they went. Snape knocked on the door, and Professor Dumbledore called them in. Snape began to speak.

"Headmaster," He said. "During class, Potter let slip that he may very well know the person who brewed the potion I've been asked to study. I asked him to reveal the information, but he refused. I tried legilimency, but it appears he has had additional tutoring in that, as well. I demand that you take the appropriate actions."

Professor Dumbledore looked at Harry over his half-moon shaped glasses. Harry brought up his shields again. Harry knew that Dumbledore practiced legilimency, and wasn't about to give away his secrets. "Harry, that information is very vital to us. I would like to know who brewed the potion. Would you please tell me?"

Harry answered immediately. "I'm sorry Professor. I was instructed to share that information with only the people that I trust." He threw a very pointed look at Snape, whose eyes narrowed.

"Please Harry, I trust Professor Snape." Dumbledore said. Harry looked at him for a moment, and then responded.

"I don't." He said simply. "I have no reason to believe that my secrets are safe with him."

The headmaster was taken aback by Harry's statement, but had more cards to play. "Harry, you seem to forget that Professor Snape has tried to save your life several times since you've been in school here." Dumbledore felt that this would turn Harry's opinion.

Harry was unmoved. "I also seem to recall that just five minutes ago that Professor Snape tried to exploit a weakness that only he was aware of. If that is the kind of treatment he gives secrets, why would I want to give him more weapons?"

The headmaster was stunned. Harry would not divulge any secrets to Snape, and that was final. Dumbledore knew that Snape would be furious with him, but he needed the information. "Severus, I would like to speak to Harry alone for a while. I believe that you have a class to attend to." Snape looked like he wanted to argue, but a look from Dumbledore silenced him. He stalked out the door, giving a good slam. "Now Harry, would you please tell me who you trained with over the summer?" Harry sat down in one of the Headmaster's armchairs, and looked at his Professor.

**

A/N: Does this count as cliffhanger? I have another chapter in the works right now, but I need to break it away from this scene. I'm sorry if you don't like cliffhangers, if this counts as one. I need the chapter break so you can review your notes. The next chapter contains a very startling revelation, but if you have read the five real books, and all of my chapters, then you can probably guess it. Leave me review of what you think the revelation is going to be. Have fun!

**Raven Dragonclaw:** I'm glad you liked the last chapter. Of course he lied. Who would be afraid of Voldemort: Squib at Large?

**Shreve:** Whether he fooled Snape or not, it really doesn't matter. Snape holds a position with the Dark Lord that many underlings would love to hold. Snape values his own life, so he'll make every attempt to not piss off the Dark Lord.

**Hermionegreen:** Yes, the Order was told to pull their spies out, but Snape holds a public position at Hogwarts. His extraction is going to take more time than the others.


	11. Chapter 10: A Startling Revelation

A/N: Ok, my intrepid readers, I seem to have caused some confusion once again. In the last chapter, I said that enchantment as a branch of magic had not been used for three hundred years. You may ask, well then, how did Mr. Weasley enchant his car? (Thank you for pointing that out, Shreve.) Well, my friends, there is a big difference between casting a spell on an object to enchant it, and practicing the art of enchantment on an object. The difference will be explained, not in this chapter, but the next one. Until then, don't worry too much about it. Trust me, I will lead you through this confusing piece of magical theory later. (I bet you all hate me for my scientific approach to magic, but it's the way that my mind works.) Well, now that I've made my announcement, it's time to get moving! Onward, my faithful readers!

**

Chapter 10: A Startling Revelation

**

            The silence in the room was palpable. Professor Dumbledore sat there, watching Harry over his glasses, and Harry sat there in the chair, with an unreadable expression on his face. Dumbledore tried to use his legilimency once again, but Harry's defenses were ironclad. As the silence stretched, it became clear that Harry was not going to speak first, so Dumbledore spoke. "Harry, who trained you and Ms. Granger over the summer?"

            Harry fixed Dumbledore with a look so piercing, that he instinctively brought up his mental defenses. Ok, so Harry was a legilimens. Now, Dumbledore was even more eager to know who his trainers were. If Ms. Granger was trained in the same manner, the pair would be very valuable to the Order. Harry held Dumbledore's eyes for a moment, then said the words that Headmaster never thought he would hear. "I'm sorry Professor, but I promised them that I would only share their identities with people I trust."

            Dumbledore was stunned. Over the last five years, Harry had always trusted his judgement, and provided any information that he'd asked for. Now, Harry had just revealed that he no longer trusted his headmaster. Such shocking information had rendered him temporarily unable to string together a complex sentence, so he settled for a simple one. "Why not, Harry?"

            "Sitting in your office the second day of school, you gave me a lot to think about." Harry said. "After I told you about Voldemort's surprise visit to my house, I started thinking. After I escaped him in the department of mysteries, he would most definitely want me dead before I could get back here to your school. In order to get me at home, however, he needed to know how I was protected while there."

            Harry stopped for a moment, to see if Dumbledore was catching on. His face was unreadable, which meant to Harry that he at least suspected where this was heading. "Since getting rid of me was, and still is, his highest priority, he would have set all of his death eaters onto the task of finding out. There was only one problem with that. There was only one person in the magical world that knew what types of protections were placed on my relatives' house. That was the man who put them there. That was a man by the name of Albus Dumbledore. Correct, sir?"

            The man in question didn't speak. Harry took his silence to be a response to the affirmative. Dumbledore was reflecting on his past, and cursing himself for another bad decision.

            "I know how you guard secrets Professor. You kept a very big one from me for a good long time. I find it very unbelievable that you just let that particular secret slip by accident. My guess is that since Voldemort was looking for information that only you had, you used the information to ensure that Voldemort trusted your spy. Do you deny it, sir?" Harry said, and then fell silent. He was waiting for Dumbledore to speak.

            Eventually, Dumbledore spoke. "I can't deny it, Harry. That was exactly what I did. Voldemort wanted the information, and I needed a spy close to him. I never imagined that he would find a way to use the information before your birthday. Your mother's protection was very strong at your Aunt's house. I didn't believe that he could harm you there. The day after your birthday, we would have come to collect you. I am sorry, Harry."

            "You made a tactical decision, and I respect that, but you forgot one detail." Harry said, still in lecture mode. "My mother's protection was strong at my Aunt's house, but the wards weren't keyed to my mother's protection. They were keyed to my blood. Voldemort doesn't have my mother's protection, but he does have my blood. So, while he couldn't use magic to kill me at my Aunt's, he could pass through the wards. You made a mistake telling him about the blood magic. That's a dark art, and I'll bet he has several books about it." Harry paused here, and conjured himself a cup of tea. He offered one to Dumbledore as well. Then he continued.

            "But that little epiphany just brought more revelations. Now that I had a better understanding of how you used information as a weapon, I thought back to Voldemort's first reign." All color drained from Dumbledore's face. Surely he didn't think… "You knew that there was a spy in the Order, and you had knowledge of a prophecy involving either myself or Neville Longbottom. It was prudent to hide our families using a fidelius charm. It occurred to me that the best way to ensure our safety would be complete secrecy of the spell, until after it was cast. Why then did the entire Order know that we would be going under it? You announced it at an Order meeting, didn't you? You were attempting to flush out the spy, and you wanted Voldemort to know that there would be secret-keepers to look for." Professor Dumbledore was filled with regret, and could only manage to nod his head.

"That means that you are partially responsible for part of the prophecy coming true. I was marked as his equal, in more ways than one. His mother died, and his father abandoned him. He lived in a place he hated. That makes our childhoods very similar." Harry said. "We also have very similar talents, such as Parseltongue and Legilimency. Now that I know how you use information that you have, why would I want to tell you secrets that I don't want Voldemort to know?"

Professor Dumbledore couldn't answer. His head was spinning. Harry excused himself, and left him alone with his thoughts. Harry didn't trust him anymore, and it seemed he had good reason not to. Reflecting on his past actions, Professor Dumbledore realized that, in his effort to defeat his enemy, he had forgotten that the lives on the line weren't his to endanger. He had sacrificed the safety of Harry's family to set up an information pipeline from Voldemort's forces, and he had done it more than once.

When Harry had disappeared from his home a week before his birthday, Dumbledore assumed that Harry would seek him out immediately. When Harry wasn't seen for three days, he had sent the entire Order out looking for him. His friends had been contacted, only to find out that Hermione was gone as well. It seemed that her parents had decided to take a trip, and took her with them. Nobody seemed to know where they were, and it was assumed that Harry was not with them. Now, it appeared that Hermione and Harry had used their time in another country to train in magical arts not taught at his school. He needed to know what training they had received, and who taught it to them. As much as he regretted his actions, the information Harry was holding was too valuable to the Order for it to remain secret. Dumbledore started writing a letter to the Grangers. In the meantime, he would need to discuss with the Order what to do about the Gryffindor prefects. He turned to his phoenix. "Assemble the Order, Fawkes." Fawkes trilled, and disappeared in a burst of flames.

**

            "Ladies and Gentlemen, we are here tonight to discuss a matter of grave importance." Albus said to the Order, as soon as they had all assembled. "Severus Snape has been instructed to reverse-engineer a potion for the Dark Lord, and brew a counter potion for it. Normally, this would not be brought to the attention of the entire Order, but this is a special case. It seems that this potion was enchanted." There were gasps all around the room. "I know that none of you have much experience with the art of enchantment, but the potion is not what we are her to discuss."

            "Well, then, Albus, what are we here to discuss?" Asked one of the Order members.

            "I'm getting to it, Jonas." Albus replied. "The person who found out that the potion was enchanted was Harry Potter. He and Ms. Granger seem to have a basic understanding of Enchantment, even going as far as to know how to differentiate the spells from each other." More gasps were heard around the room. "Mr. Potter seemed to believe that the potion was most likely brewed by the same person who taught them enchantment."

            "Well then, who did he say his teacher was, Albus?" Remus Lupin asked.

            "He didn't say who his teacher was, Remus. He doesn't trust me with the information. That is what we are here to discuss. Harry Potter has information we need, but refuses to divulge it." Albus said. "How do we get it? I need suggestions."

            As usual, Snape's dislike for Harry was shown quickly. "Albus, I think we should use Veritaserum. Not only will Potter tell us what we want to know, he won't be able to falsify it." The Order members who knew Harry were outraged at this suggestion, and the outrage was very vocal. It was decided that Veritaserum was a last resort type of solution.

            Remus suggested that he be allowed to talk to Harry. He thought that Harry would trust him. Albus quickly nixed that idea, knowing that if Harry suspected Remus of spying on him for the Order, he would lose trust in Remus as well.

            "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is not just about the information we need." Albus said, after several bad ideas were voiced. "Harry doesn't trust the Order anymore. His trust in us is necessary to help us accomplish our goal. He may be young, but the Dark Lord has placed him at the top of his hit list. We cannot keep him safe if he doesn't trust us to."

            Ideas were scarce once the Order was given that stipulation. Mad-eye Moody was the one to voice the next idea. "Why not put a portrait in his room? He'll feel safe in his room, and he might let something slip." The rest of the Order approved of the idea, and it was decided that a portrait would be placed in Harry's room. Molly Weasley was the next speaker.

            "I don't really know if I should suggest this, but my son Ron is Harry's best friend. He also wants to be part of the Order. What if we were to make him an unofficial member of the Order, and give him the job of finding out who it was that Harry and Hermione were training with over the summer? Since he's their best friend, he might even already know." She said.

            Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling again. It seemed to be the perfect idea. "An excellent suggestion, Molly. I will speak to Ronald about it tomorrow."

            The Order adjourned for the night, and Albus went back to the school, certain that the plan would work. Sure, it was a tad underhanded, but the information was vital. After he got the information, he would work on gaining Harry's trust again.

**

A/N: I have been getting some reviews that say my chapters are too short. I agree with them that they are, but there isn't much to be done about it. My chapters are broken up by what is happening in them. I like to finish scenes in one shot, so I don't leave cliffhangers. I hate cliffhangers. I know what you're thinking. If I hate cliff hangers, then why was the last chapter a cliffhanger? Simple, my readers. The last chapter was Snape focused. Once Snape left the room, I ended the chapter. This chapter was Dumbledore focused, so it continued after Harry left the room. I hope some of you got the revelation. If you didn't, don't worry about it. Stay tuned for a bit of Magical Theory and another Brutal Murder in the next chapter!

**Vicious Lily:** Yes, it is a bad sign. Don't worry though, they're also my favorite scenes to write. Another one coming soon!

**Raven Dragonclaw:** I'm glad you liked my little pun.

**Shreve:** Don't worry too much about the enchantment thing. I'm going to explain it to you in the next chapter. Thanks very much for giving me the perfect example to use.

**Hermionegreen:** If Sirius is cleared of charges, it will be posthumously. He is dead, after all. I hated the fact that it was Sirius that bit the bullet in book five, but this is my take on book six.


	12. Chapter 11: Enchantments, Explanations, ...

A/N: Ok everybody; it's time for a lecture! I've been reading over my story, and I've noticed something very strange. Harry seems more like Hermione than Hermione does! That's not good, so I'm going to make this chapter Hermione focused. I'm dedicating this chapter to Shreve, who wants to know the difference between enchanting an object, and practicing enchantment on an object. On with the show!

**

Chapter 11: Enchantments. Explanations, and Extermination

**

            It really was beautiful; the way Harry worked his magic. Hermione was brewing a potion, while Harry practiced his enchantments on the ingredients. Enchantment was a very fascinating magical art for Hermione. She found the books on it inside the magical library in Prague, while her family and Harry were touring Europe over the summer. The vacation was perfect for Harry, who couldn't stay in one place for too long, lest somebody find him.

            Enchantment was using magic to modify the way a certain object behaves. At first, Hermione thought it was like Mr. Weasley enchanting his car, so that it could fly. Once she and Harry had started studying the principles, however, she found it to be very different than what Mr. Weasley had done. Casting spells on an object to make it behave differently is easy. Thing is, those spells can be broken, tampered with, and they had a tendency to lose power over time. Hermione remembered the bludger that Dobby tampered with during second year. She also remembered Ron's old rickety broomstick.

            Enchantment, as an art, was fundamentally different than enchanting an object. While learning about it, Harry had told her everything he knew about the mirror of Erised. The mirror was over 750 years old, but the spells that made it work were still fully functional, and would remain so until the mirror was broken. To properly enchant an object using enchantment, the magic would need to be tied directly into the molecular structure of the object. This would mean that until the structure of the object was lost, the magic would stay in place. The spells could not be broken either, because they were part of the object. It would be like taking the magic out of a Phoenix. It was literally impossible to separate one from the other, without destroying the object.

            The hardest part about enchantment was not the tying of the magic, but the blending of it. Most objects required several different spells to make them behave the way one wanted, and spells, though non-sentient, seemed to fight for dominance in the object. The results of this 'fight' were always the same. All of the spells would weaken over a couple of days, and eventually stop working all together. Wizards and Witches rode broomsticks for this reason. A broomstick had enough twigs in the tail that some could have thrust charms, the others braking charms. Then the stick itself was enchanted to control the charms in the tail. Mr. Weasley had charmed the pieces of his car separately, and then put them together. Enchantment solved the problem with spell-dominance by requiring that the different spells be blended together in such a way that they worked together flawlessly.

            That was the reason Enchantment was no longer practiced. The Wizarding world seemed to be in the middle of an age of ignorance. Blending Enchantments required one to feel the magic, and manipulate it to interlock, like a jigsaw puzzle. Wands did not allow for the precision manipulation that was required. It had to be done with instinct, feel, and your bare hands. For the last few hundred years, the Wizarding world had been caught up in using wands and potions for everything. The true magical artisans had disappeared when their magic no longer generated interest. Without the artisans to teach younger generations, the magics were lost. It wasn't until Harry's awakening that they decided to bring enchantment back.

            When Harry had awakened as a Shadow Master, Hermione's powers had become active. Harry had knowledge of what was happening to them, but all Hermione had, was her information filled brain. They both felt the need to feel death, so they began to plot. They decided to become assassins. Talking about it late at night, after her parents had gone to sleep, they decided to form the Imperial Dragon Circle. They had discussed joining the Order of the Phoenix, but Harry believed they would be opposed to killing the people needed to sustain their hunger. They even thought about joining the Death Eaters, because they were, in essence, eating death. Harry and Hermione both hated the idea of killing innocent people. Harry later revealed that, being demons, they actually hungered for the death of dark souls. Innocents would barely feed them at all.

Hermione couldn't help but smile at the thought of their secret little group. There were, in actuality, only two members in the entire circle. It was Hermione's idea to call it a circle, that way the other powers in the Wizarding world would believe in a fourth power controlling the Assassinations. On the other hand, Harry had come up with the absolutely brilliant idea that they each create three separate personas, and divide their powers up between them, so they looked like six different, and extremely talented, assassins. That would confuse the other powers even more. He also suggested that they make a leader for their organization, but not really. Hermione thought that was brilliant as well. They referred to the leader as 'Leader,' and he didn't actually exist. She thought the breakdown of their personas was perfect.

Venificus and Toxis were their enchanter personas. Right now, Harry was the only one who could actually do the enchanting. Once Hermione awakened fully, she would be able to see the magic like Harry did, so she could manipulate it properly. Right now she could only feel it, but that was perfect for her. She could feel the way Harry added enchantments to her potion ingredients, then made them dormant so the potion could be brewed. After she was done brewing the potion, (Harry was not nearly as good at potions as she was.) Harry would bring the enchantments back, and blend them together. Hermione smiled to think about it. Harry had lied to Snape in class. Using a wand, there was no way to distinguish between enchantments, once they were blended. The wand simply was not precise enough. She was reveling in the feel of the magic, filing the experience away for when she could do it, in less than a week. They had chosen the names Venificus and Toxis to make their targets afraid of poisons. With enchantment on their side, they could poison pumpkin juice, and no poison test would ever show it. It was brilliant.

Another talent that Shadow Masters had was Occlumency and Legilimency. The pair of assassins that used this talent was Nytemare and Dreem. They used their talent in legilimency to determine what the intended target was afraid of, and then utterly terrified them before killing them. Nott, for example, was afraid of crowds. They made him nervous and feel vulnerable. By making his senses go haywire, he was effectively terrified. He was also deathly afraid of bleeding. Odd that he would be, considering the fact that he loved to torture others. The way he was killed combined his two greatest fears. 

Nytemare and Dreem were also what they called technomancers. Technomancy was a magical art that Harry and Hermione developed themselves. They combined certain muggle technologies with magical artifacts and organics to create magic that was totally different than wizards were used to. For example, while touring Europe, Harry and Hermione had found some interesting items in a sporting goods store. They found a small collection of Graphite shafts for golf clubs. Immediately, and idea popped into their heads. Graphite was used as a club shaft because it was strong and flexible. It was also carbon-based, and hollow in the middle. They purchased two shafts, and cut them into wand sizes. Then, they ventured into Hogwarts, using their shadow walking abilities to get in, and Harry's knowledge of the school to enter the Chamber of Secrets. Hermione couldn't find it, because she didn't know where to look. Inside the chamber, they found the remains of a large basilisk. They took two of its smallest fangs, and used them as the core of their new wands. They weren't the best wands for practical use, but they were untraceable.

Finally, Hermione reflected, there was Flame and Blade. Magical freaks, they were. When the Shadow Master demons possessed them, the magical presences conflicted, causing a very odd mutation of magic. In Harry's case, he could summon a type of fire that he called Dragon Flames. It would consume anything magical, and could not be put out until it ran out of fuel. Avery found that out the hard way, when Flame set his wand on fire. Hermione had no idea how in the world Harry's magic evolved like that, nor did she know how she came to have her specific oddity. The swords and other edged weapons she used as Blade were summoned from nothing. Hermione had no idea what kind of metal it was. It was coal-black, and impossibly sharp, although Harry told her it was because of a built in severing charm. They jokingly called the metal unobtainuim. It also disappeared the moment she didn't need it anymore. That, coupled with their Shadow Master abilities, and their Cloaks of Shadow, they were nearly unstoppable.

The Only major weakness that they had was their lack of spell-casting power. The dormant abilities, once awakened, took a large portion of their natural magic to sustain. Harry could no longer cast a Patronus Charm, for example. It didn't really bother him because, as a demon, he was immune to Dementors anyway. Even with the fact that their casting power was nowhere near Voldemort's, they were technically, for pure magical power, the strongest magical beings on the planet. With the cloaks on, they were harder to stun than four dragons, and it would probably take the entire Order casting Killing Curses to kill them. They could die, being in mortal bodies of course, but it would take a whole lot of magic to get through their defenses.

After Harry finished enchanting all the ingredients, Hermione finished making the potion. They wouldn't trust Snape with the information about who had made the potion because it would raise too many questions, but Harry was fairly certain that Snape's life depended on getting his hands on a counter-potion for their 'special' tea. So, here they were, inside the Chamber of Secrets, brewing up the antidote for Snape.

After the potion was finished, they were going out to test their newest deadly draught. Harry called it 'The Leaky Faucet Potion' because of what it did. Basically, it was a very simple sweating solution, with a few enchantments thrown in for good measure. The enchantment applied to the potion caused the person to sweat blood, rather than just salty water. The drinker would bleed to death, over about twenty-five minutes. Just long enough to feel totally helpless, then die without complaint. It was sure going to be a fun night for Rodolphus LeStrange, the recent Azkaban escapee.

**

            Not a lot was happening tonight. Rodolphus LeStrange was sitting in the Hog's Head in disguise. He was on the lookout for any information on the Imperial Dragon Circle. The Dark Lord wanted the information, and he always got what he wanted. LeStrange was working hard, so that he could be the one to get the information that his Lord sought. If he was to find out who was behind the assassinations, the dark Lord would reward him, and maybe even give him back his rightful position, as his right hand. That sniveling coward Wormtail had it now, but if this evening paid off, it would soon be his.

            He watched as two strangers entered the pub, both wearing black cloaks with the hoods up. They walked over to the bar, and ordered drinks. They sat down at a table close to him, and Rodolphus could see the cloak fasteners bore a strange insignia. It was a dragon, biting its tail to form a circle. There was a Capital Letter 'I' on the inside of the circle as well. Wait a moment. I? As in Imperial? A dragon in a circle? The Imperial Dragon Circle! Rodolphus almost fell out of his chair. He had been looking everywhere for them, and here they were. He stood and walked to the bar, where he ordered himself another firewhiskey. The bartender said it would be a minute, and he went and sat back down where he could hear them talk. He would wait until they were outside the Hog's Head, then he would stun them and take them to his Lord

            The bartender brought him his drink, but he was too busy carefully listening to the dragons to notice the blank look in the bartender's eyes. The dragons were talking about an assassination attempt on a prominent death eater.  Rodolphus almost laughed out loud as he took a long drink of his firewhiskey. These dragons were amateurs! They should not be talking about secrets in here, of all places! He finished off his drink quickly. Suddenly, the dragons in question both turned to look at him.

            "Do you think he realized we were talking about him?" One of them, the man, said to the other. Rodolphus felt his insides go numb. Him! They were planning to kill him! Rodolphus started sweating, but he put on a superior air, and a sneer that not even Lucius Malfoy could match.

            "Do you honestly think it will be easy for you to kill me?" He hissed at them. "I'm probably the Dark Lord's most powerful servant!" There was no way these two would be able to take him on. The firewhiskey was heating him up, and he was sweating. It was uncomfortable. He wiped his brow with his robes.

            "Correction, we think that it WAS easy to kill you." Said the woman, sounding rather bossy. "You shouldn't trust what you drink in shady places like this." Rodolphus' insides froze. They poisoned him! He was sweating profusely now, and he wiped his brow with his hand. The liquid was red! He was sweating blood! "You'll be dead in about twenty minutes, Mr. Lestrange. Enjoy your last moments." The two assassins got up from the table, and walked out of the room.

            Rodolphus was panicking. He had to get help, but from where? He couldn't go to the Hospital; they would lock him away. His Lord! He would be able to cure him! Rodolphus got up from the table, but he felt a bit wobbly. He was losing blood fast. He made it out of the pub, but collapsed in the middle of the street. He felt helpless, his vision was blurring, and then he blacked out. He would never wake up.

            The next day, the Aurors would find the body of Rodolphus LeStrange, lying in a pool of his own blood, in the middle of the street in Hogsmeade. Attached to the body would be a note.

            _Cheers!_

_            Venificus and Toxis_

_            Imperial Dragon Circle_

**

A/N: Fun way to die, eh? Shreve, my friend, I hope that clears up your confusion. Ok, my friends, now you know just about everything there is to know about the Imperial Dragon Circle, as well as the powers associated with each persona of my favorite two Gryffindors. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Next time: Harry and a portrait, Ron gets manipulated, and fun for everyone!

**Bellatrix:** Don't worry. I have a plan for our favorite red headed Weasley boy. Thanks for the review!

**Blank_eyes: **It makes sense that the Order was aware of the Fidelius Charm. If they didn't know about the secret keeper thing, there would be no reason to condemn Sirius as the betrayer.

**Maven:** Wait and see!

**Raven Dragonclaw: **Not willingly, but maybe without realizing it.


	13. Chapter 12: Deceptions, Theories, and a ...

A/N: Alright, my readers, it's time once again to get back to my two favorite dark creatures. In this chapter, we're going to learn that being on the light side doesn't always mean being the good guy. Should be fun. On with the show! But before that, I need to speak to Blank_eyes.

**Blank_eyes:** You make a very good point about the secret keeper thing, but listen to my reasoning for a moment. If there was a spy in the Order, Dumbledore would want them caught. Using the Fidelius was a perfect way to find the spy. He announced to the Order that the Potters would go under the Fidelius Charm, but didn't tell them who the secret keeper was. Once the Potters were gone, he could leak false information to different Order members as to who was the secret keeper, and see who got attacked. Tactically, it would flush out the rat, so to speak, because they would know who was told what.

**

Chapter 12: Deceptions, Theories, and a Portrait

**

            Professor Dumbledore was always good at math. When the news of this latest murder got to him, he quickly put two and two together, and made four. He was inching closer to his goal, of finding out who the members of the Imperial Dragon Circle were, and hopefully, Ronald Weasley could put the final pieces of the puzzle in place. Too many coincidences were present to be passed off as coincidences, especially considering the Dumbledore didn't believe in coincidences.

            Harry and Hermione were both trained in Occlumency over the summer. There were very few master Occlumencers in the known Wizarding world. The only conclusion he could come to was that they learned from someone outside Wizarding society. That meant either a Dark Arts Master, or someone who needed to keep themselves hidden, like an assassin. After reading the letter from the Grangers, who didn't know where Harry and Hermione had gone during the day while they were out shopping, he knew where the trip across Europe had taken them. The problem was, it wasn't anywhere near any know Dark Arts Masters. That left assassins. Professor Dumbledore was aware of the circumstances under which Theodore Nott had met his end. Someone knew exactly what he was afraid of, and used it against him. The only way a person could know that would be if they were a legilimens. The team of assassins known as Nytemare and Dreem were legilimencers, the perfect trainers for them.

            Then, there was the knowledge of enchantment. Professor Dumbledore had studied enchantment quite thoroughly when he was younger, and discovered that it took several months to train your body to feel magic, and years to manipulate it properly. Harry and Hermione had learned to detect it in a couple of months. They had very good teachers, but who could have taught them? It was a lost art. Then, he heard about the murder. Rodolphus LeStrange bled to death as a result of drinking a sweating solution. It was changed using enchantment. The professor had to make the connection between Harry's teacher and the assassins.

            Surprisingly, that made his job easier. Once he found out who the assassins were, he could have them detained, and questioned about who their master was, and what his goals were. And he had the perfect plan to ascertain who they were. He was going to have Ronald Weasley get the information for him.

**

            Ron had been taken from his Divination class to meet the Headmaster. It was a class he didn't share with Harry or Hermione, but he assumed that they would be there with him. Imagine his surprise when he entered the office to find himself alone with the Headmaster. He wondered briefly if he'd done something wrong, but couldn't remember doing anything to get himself in trouble. He sat down, and took one of the offered Lemon Drops.

            "Ronald, I'm sure you are probably wondering why I asked you up here today." The old wizard said. "It has to to do with a matter of great importance to the world."

            "Sir?" Ron was stumped. A matter of great importance? Concerning the whole world? Ron was never the best at putting two and two together, usually ending up with eight or nine. "What are you talking about?"

            "Why, The Order of the Phoenix, of course." Said Dumbledore, forming his next thoughts very carefully. "Two of our members thought that you would make a fine asset to us, with your brilliant mind for strategy."

            That was unexpected. Ron had suspicions that Harry and Hermione had joined the Order during the summer because of the rather cryptic descriptions they gave him about the summer, but he didn't think that they'd try to get him in as well. That was part of the reason he had not spent much time with them this school year. The other reason was Lavender Brown, of course.

            "However," Dumbledore continued, "Several of our members were opposed to someone so young joining us. So, in the end, we decided to give you a test to see whether or not you can handle being in the Order."

            "I'm ready to be in the Order, Professor. I'll take whatever test you want." Ron was excited. His friends were in the Order, and there was no way he was going to let them leave him behind.

            "Good, Ronald. The test is simple enough, and won't even require you to miss school. All you need to do I gather some information. Harry and Hermione were trained by a few people over the summer." Professor Dumbledore said. "They have been instructed not to reveal their identities to anyone. It's your job to get that information."

            "I have to spy on my friends, Professor?" Ron asked, dumbfounded. "Why my friends?"

            "Simply put, Ronald, there is nobody else in the school that would be able to be here all the time. Harry and Hermione are students, and stay at the castle. They are the perfect ones to enact the scenario." Dumbledore answered. Ron's eyes were sparkling. All he had to do was ask Harry for the information, and he would be in the Order. Dumbledore, however, knew what he was thinking, and stopped that train of thought before it even left the station. "Ronald, Harry will no doubt inform me if you cheat on your test. If you let him know that your interest in his summer studies is anything related to the Order, you will automatically fail."

            Ron left the Headmaster's office that day in a daze. His mind was spinning with ideas as to how to get that information. He had to play it right, but he was already plotting. He was the best chess player in Hogwarts, and he was not going to lose this game.

**

            "So Throckmorton, anything to report about your current assignment?" Dumbledore asked, later that evening.

            "It was strange." The portrait replied. "He walked in, and looked at me in shock for a moment. Then he looked angry for just a moment. Then, his face went blank."

            "He's become quite good at masking his emotions, Throckmorton" Said Dumbledore. "It makes it hard to know what he's thinking. What happened after that?"

            "He went over to his bookshelf, and pulled a book out. I'm not sure what book it was, since I'm not at a very good angle to see his shelf." The portrait reported. "I assume it was a spell book of some kind, because he started leafing through the pages quickly. He found the page he was looking for and read it carefully. I sort of expected him to practice the spell, but he just went and sat at his desk, and pulled out a parchment and quill."

            "An essay for one of his classes, perhaps?" Dumbledore prompted.

            "That's what I thought at first too, Albus, but he finished it very quickly, and put it into an envelope." The painting said. "I realized that it was a letter, and was waiting for him to leave to head to the Owlery to send it, so I could tell you. I never got the chance, however. He went to the window, and whistled. A few moments later, his owl flew in the window. He tied the letter to her leg, and gave her a different parchment in her beak. He whispered something to her, and she took off."

            "Very resourceful of him, wasn't it?" Albus asked. "He knew you might alert me to the fact he was sending a letter, and didn't want it intercepted. Very resourceful, indeed.

            "Then," The painting continued, "he walked over to me, looked straight into my face, and said 'don't get comfortable.' I was quite confused. He then left the room, and went into the other prefect's room. There is no portrait in that room, so I don't know what went on."

            "Thank you, Throckmorton. Continue to watch him, and report to me daily." Albus said. The painted man bowed slightly, and left the frame that he was in.

            Albus Dumbledore was an intelligent man, who was almost always prepared for whatever might happen. So, naturally, it came as quite a shock when a Ministry of Magic owl swooped in and landed on the desk. It wasn't so much the shock of the owl, but the fact that Ministry owls usually came in the morning. Curious, Albus opened the letter.

            _Albus Dumbledore_

_            Headmaster_

_            Headmaster, it has been brought to our attention recently that you are invading the privacy of one of your students. Mr. Harry Potter wrote us a letter this afternoon, telling us of a portrait that has been placed in his private dorm room. According to Article Seventy-Two of the school bylaws, Human portraits are not to be placed into any private quarters. This includes common dorms, prefect quarters, and head student quarters._

_            This is a notice of probation. You are to remove the portrait from Mr. Potter's room immediately, and write him a formal apology. Since this is the first breach of a students privacy on your record, the Board of Governors has decided not to take any further action. Be warned, however, that if you do not respect the students' privacy, we will consider removing you from Hogwarts._

_            James Thompson_

_            Vice-President_

_            Board of Governors_

The Headmaster looked at the letter, after he re-read it for the fourth time. A slow smile made its way across his face. "Touché, Harry."

**

            "You what?" Snape asked. He couldn't believe it.

            "I must remove the portait from Harry's room. It was against the school rules to position it there in the first place." Albus said, still smiling.

            "There are extenuating circumstances!" Snape snapped. He needed that information. "If Potter would just tell us what we need to know, then it wouldn't be necessary!"

            "Calm yourself, Severus. If Ronald Weasley is unsuccessful in four days, then we will persue your course of action." Albus said. He was not a supporter of the idea of Harry submitting to Veritaserum, but the information was vital.

            "Good." Snape sneered. "There are a good deal of questions I'd like to ask him." It was going to be a glorious day for Slytherin House

            "Now Severus, behave yourself. I will only allow questions that deal with his summer studies." Albus said. He would not allow Severus to make a fool out of Harry.

            "As you say, Headmaster." Snape said, and left the office

**

            "He's what?" Hermione asked. She couldn't believe it.

            "He's spying on us, Hermione." Harry said. "He put a portrait in my room. The portrait of a former Headmaster, no less."

            "What are we going to do, Harry? If he's watching us, how are we going to feed?" Hermione was in a panic. Her awakening was in four days, and she was going to require satisfaction after the transformation.

            "Don't worry, Hermione. I took care of the portrait issue. Just be on the lookout for anyone, even our friends trying to get details about this last summer. We need to be careful." Harry said, hugging her close for reassurance. "We'll do our thing next after your awakening."

            "Ok Harry, it's bedtime. Are you staying?" She asked, with a flirtatious smile.

            "Sure, my love."

**

A/N: Ok, ok, ok. I know this chapter is short, but a lot of stuff happened in it. Alright people, I have a big announcement to make. I recently got an idea for another Harry Potter fan fiction. It's an Alternate Universe First year story. I wrote two chapters, and I think it will be pretty good. What I want to know is this. Would you, as my readers, prefer that I finished this story, then posted the new one, or post the new one and continue both of them? Tell me in a review. Alright, before I sign off for this chapter, I would like you all to know that the next chapter is going to contain H/Hr fluff. I'm not much of a romance writer, but Hermione's awakening is very special.

A/N 2: My good friend Noctem has been posting his story, The False Mage, for almost a month now, and nobody has reviewed it, except for myself, and Raven Dragonclaw. It is a very good story, and Noctem has been serving as my idea scratching post, so I figure the least I could do is try and spread word of his story. Read it, people. I promise you won't hate it!

**VB: **I'm getting there, just be patient.

**Bellatrix:** There was some Ron action in this one, and there will be more in the next one.

**Ryusuken:** Next chapter on the assassin fluff! It's really hard to write romance for Demons!

**Hermionegreen:** Wait and see!


	14. Chapter 13: Hermione’s Awakening

A/N: Alrighty then, my readers, the nays have it. My next story will not be posted for a while, owing to the desire of many readers for me to continue this story as fast as possible. Noctem made a good point of telling me to post due to the fact that I'll write that story whenever I get a brainstorm, and it'll delay this story anyway, but most of you want me to finish this before starting the next, so that's what I'm going to do. Ok, before we get into the story, I want to say, once again, that I am not a very good romance writer. This chapter is slightly fluffy, (don't expect a lot of fluff…they're demons!) and I hope you can stand to read it.

**

Chapter 13: Hermione's Awakening

**

            It was Wednesday, and it was probably the most important day of Hermione's life. Her sixteenth birthday was tomorrow, and at midnight that night, she would awaken as a Shadow Master. On an academic level, she was excited. When Harry awakened on his birthday over the summer, he started looking at magic in a completely different way. Hermione thought it was because he could see it, but Harry said it was because his mind had changed, and he was more in tune with magic now. It made sense in an odd sort of way. Magical creatures flocked to the forbidden forest because they could sense the magic of the area. Now that Harry was technically a magical creature, it made sense that he had a more intimate connection with magic.

            On her demon level, there was a sense of anticipation. For the last two months, ever since Harry's powers had started to activate, she'd been feeling constricted. She knew that there was a demon inside her, just waiting to be awakened. Demons in mortal bodies cannot realize their potential until their mortal bodies reach maturity. Since Harry and Hermione were born possessed, they would be considered mature when their magical power stopped growing. That happened on their sixteenth birthdays. There was a sense of impending release inside her. There was also the building hunger. It had been three days since Rodolphus LeStrange met his end in the back alleys of Hogsmeade, and the need to feel somebody die was becoming uncomfortable. Harry, being fully awakened, could tolerate it for much longer than she could, and was right now in her room, keeping her from leaving. Good thing he was, too. The last thing they needed right now was to execute one of the students. Hermione was past the point of being picky. She wanted to feel it. Harry had chained her to the bed, so she couldn't get away by melting into the shadows. Harry said that once she awakened, the chain wouldn't hold her, but for now, it was sufficient.

            She was annoyed with Harry because of the chain, but grateful to him at the same time. He kept her from going to classes that day, and was sitting with her in her room. There was a good reason for her to be grateful, too. Her human side was terrified. In approximately one hour, she would lose her humanity. According to Harry, her entire perspective would shift, and she wouldn't even be able to think of herself as human. Then there was the pain aspect of the awakening. She watched Harry's awakening, and witnessed him thrashing about in pain. Later, she came to find out that Harry had basically been torn apart and rebuilt on the inside, organ by organ. Although it didn't last long, Harry said it was quite painful. She believed him, because he was the only person she knew of that had experienced one.

            Harry was currently sitting on her bed, holding her, as she contemplated losing herself in a demonic transformation. His presence was reassuring. He had been gone for about an hour in the morning, to inform the Professors that they would not be attending classes that day. They would be missing Charms and Defense, but both professors understood. They had been sitting in Hermione's room all day, alternately talking, kissing, and Harry comforting Hermione. Harry knew she needed to know that he was there for her, and he was doing a marvelous job. It was almost midnight when she thought of something.

            "Harry?" She asked, tentatively. She didn't want him to be offended. "Why is it that whenever there is some solo work to be done, you do it instead of me?"

            Harry laughed. "I wondered when you were going to ask that question, Hermione." He smiled, and kissed her forehead. "I'm sure that you'd be a brilliant spokesperson for the Circle, but not until after tonight. It takes you too much concentration to shadow walk right now, because your mind isn't suited for it yet. The last thing we want is for one of us to get captured and give away the Circle. After tonight, your new instincts will allow you to do things you never would have thought you could."

            "Like what?" Hermione asked. The academic side was taking over.

            "The best example is your arm." Harry said. "Right now, I have you shackled to your bed, so you can't escape on me. After you awaken, you'll have an entirely new perspective on that. The chain may be holding you, but the inside of that manacle is shrouded in shadow. Right now, you can't concentrate hard enough to make only a part of your body shadow walk, so you're caught. After you awaken, you'll have no trouble doing it."

            "So, you would let me watch the proceedings from afar, but not participate, because my abilities aren't as developed as yours." Hermione said. "That makes sense."

            "You'll know this in a few minutes, but even a room completely lit has shadows somewhere. Once awakened, you'll be able to find them, and use them, no matter how faint they might be." Harry said, the pride in his abilities apparent. "We are the ultimate spies and assassins. Deadly as one of Hagrid's Blast-ended Skrewts, and more slippery than a wet bar of soap."

            It was drawing closer to midnight, and Harry cast a silencing charm on her room, so that her screaming would not bring the authorities in on them. Professor Mcgonagall had come up once to see what was wrong with Hermione, and had wondered how Harry had managed to get into the girl's dorms. Hermione said she wasn't feeling well, and Harry was taking care of her, and Harry had explained that he used his broom, conveniently placed in the corner, to come in through the window. Surprisingly, Harry didn't get a detention, just a reprimand for flying without supervision.

            The clock on the wall struck midnight, and Hermione screamed.

**

            Harry knew what was happening. He'd done the same thing on his birthday, but without anyone there to help. It was painful. Far more painful than anything he'd ever been through, but only for a few minutes. After that, his demonic mind started forming, and he lost the mental connection with his body. He could feel his body continue to thrash, but it was like he was an outside observer. Then it was over, and he was a new entity.

**

            The pain was intense. Beyond intense, it was excruciating. The only parallel she could possibly think of was the cruciatus curse, having seen it used before. She would bet this pain was worse, if she could string together enough coherent thought to make the bet. The pain consumed every part of her body. She could feel her bones liquefying under her muscles, and she could feel her muscles rippling painfully as they changed. Her organs were all screaming as they stopped working properly. It was the worst experience of her life.

            Suddenly, the pain stopped. She could still feel each of her organs shut down, only to be replaced by a new one, which functioned perfectly, although slightly differently. She could still feel her body changing ever so slightly, becoming faster and more agile. Her muscles, while they remained the same size, were growing stronger. But, that was not the best part of her transformation.

            Hermione's perception shifted suddenly. The world was awash with tendrils of colorful vapor. He was seeing magic for the first time, and it was beautiful. The walls had a glow to them, her wand, laying on the nightstand, was pulsing with internal magic, and she could see her own aura as it flared with her changes. She knew it would disappear as soon as she finished changing. She couldn't see Harry's aura, and Harry had already explained to her that they instinctively masked their magical presence.

            Hermione was in pain again, this time centered on her head. New information was being pumped rapidly into her brain. She learned the history of shadow masters, how to discern what type of magic was being used, and most importantly, her new instincts for using her abilities. The knowledge flow started slowing down as her head was filled with combat techniques. Being assassins that are not the strongest in magic had its disadvantages, so physical combat techniques made up for it. The fighting style was graceful, and very strong, using the enhanced strength of the demons to formulate the moves. The style didn't have a name. As the knowledge flow stopped, she regained her connection to her body.

            She felt powerful. She was sore, but powerful. It felt like her muscles were coiled snakes, ready to strike. She felt like a predator. Strangely, the impulse to kill had diminished slightly. She felt like she was in control of herself again. She became aware of a constrictive band around her wrist, which she took an immediate dislike to. She felt the shadow on the inside of it, and melted her arm into it, only to pop out the other side of it, perfectly fine, with no sign of tampering.

            There was clapping beside her. "Bravo, Hermione. I knew you could do it." The demon next to her said. She knew it was Harry, but her vision was different. She didn't view the world as objects and space anymore. It was instead, light, shadow, and magic. Every source of light cast shadows, and every magic had colors. The shadows were there, no matter how faint, and they were always surrounded by light. It was odd, yet she knew it was the way the world should look. She couldn't help herself; she had to smile.

            "Thank you, Harry. Or should I say Pyrus?" Hermione said. Now that she was a demon, she recognized Harry's demon name.

            "Call me Harry, Ferrata." He said, looking her in the eye. "And I'll call you Hermione. Our true names must be completely unmentioned in this world. It would give Lord Riddle too much sway over us if he knew them."

            "I see your point, Harry." Hermione said. "Even if he did just call us, and we could always refuse, if he could speak to us by name, it would force us to listen to what he said, and we would be unable to harm him."

            "Exactly, and I really want to kill him." Harry said, his eyes gleaming. "So, to change the subject, are you hungry? You haven't eaten at all today."

            "Actually, I'm starving. Let's go to the kitchens and get some food." Hermione said, smiling. "I wonder if Dobby will recognize us as demons."

            "Probably not. We are bound to human form, and we are mortal. Those are two characteristics that demons don't have, and it will confuse the elves enough that we don't have to worry." Harry replied.

            "Ok, food first, then we plan. Tomorrow night is my first execution as a full bodied Shadow Master, and I have a taste for Fudge." Hermione said, her eyes glowing with anticipation. Harry just laughed.

**

A/N: I told you that the fluff would be small. I can't really write it well, so I choose not to. I hide my inability to write it behind the mask of "What do you expect? They're Demons!" but it really is just my lack of romantic penmanship. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Coming soon will be the death of our most esteemed Minister of Magic, and a Weasley Inquisition. My fingers quiver with anticipation!

**Raven Dragonclaw: **Snape? Stop torturing Harry? Why would he ever do that?

**Mella DeRanged: ** Makes them sound like what? Demons? News Flash!

**Noctem:** Don't give away secrets! Of course it's because he's not human, but people were supposed to figure that out on their own.

**Jess16: **Indeed I do, but not for a few chapters yet.

**Bellatrix:** Sorry, but no Ron action in this one. Next chapter, I promise!


	15. Chapter 14: Hermione’s Solo Act, and Ron...

A/N: My what good little reviewers you've been! Many of the most recent reviews were fun to read, owing to my insinuation that the Minister will be six feet under very shortly. Does anyone think that she just really wanted chocolate? No? Didn't think so. Well, this chapter does indeed contain the death of our beloved Minister. That said, let's get right into it. I can't wait! I don't really have an evil laugh, but if I did, I would insert it in place of this sentence!

**

Chapter 14: Hermione's Solo Act, and Ron's Inquisition

**

            Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, was working late. He was the last one in the building, and with good reason for it. One simply did not do the type of work that he was doing when there were witnesses around. If someone were to see what he was up to, there would be far too many inquiries for his taste. Not to mention the amount of paperwork that would have to be done by other people. No, it was best that nobody saw him, if only to keep them from needing to do all that paperwork. After all, he was doing more than enough paperwork for everyone.

            The paperwork he was doing, however, was not about the rise of the Dark Lord, or anything as worldly important. Fudge was working on appropriating funds for his own vault in Gringotts. The legal term for it was embezzling, but he preferred to think of it as relieving the Ministry of unnecessary capital. Right now, he was working on the Society of Aurors' Requisition form. They had been allocated 200,000 Galleons to aid them in bringing down the Dark Lord. The money had already been transferred to the Ministry, so it could be given to the Aurors, but first Fudge was doing some preparatory work on it. The Society of Aurors didn't need 200,000 Galleons; 199,000 would be plenty. So, all that there was to do was change a bit of the paperwork, and transfer the extra thousand into his anonymous Gringotts Vault.

            It was not panic or fear that had him so adamant the previous year about denying the return of the Dark Lord. No, it was duty. If he stepped down as Minister, or someone questioned his capacity for leadership, He would come under scrutiny, and probably found out as an embezzler. It was his duty to make sure that the Ministry wasn't troubled with that investigation. Now, the Ministry had bigger fish to fry, so he was safe in his position.

            As he was thinking this, the lights in his office dimmed quite suddenly. Thinking that the amplifying charm on the torches had worn off, he turned in his chair, and re-cast the spell. Pocketing his wand, he turned his chair back to his desk, and almost fell out of it. There was now an occupant in the visitor's chair in his office. The person looked female, although the face was hidden under a hood. The robes she was wearing were similar to the ones that the assassin that had threatened him wore, but different as well. This woman's cloak was cuffed with dark gray fabric that looked…sharp, almost as if it were a razor blade. She was currently holding the scroll he was working on, and seemed to be reading it.

            "I guess it must be nice to be able to provide yourself with a bonus whenever you want one." She said, her voice as sharp as the cuffs of her cloak looked. The tone made Fudge's face pale slightly, and his fingers seek his wand. "I wish it were that easy for the rest of us."

            The woman sounded dangerous, and she was holding incriminating evidence. This caused a contradiction in instincts in Fudge's brain. On the one hand, she was dangerous, and he longed to get as far from her as possible. On the other hand, she was holding evidence of his crime, and he wanted desperately to relieve her of it. In the end, the fighting instincts rendered him incapable of producing any sound from his mouth. That was ok, apparently, because the woman continued speaking.

            "It isn't easy for most of the world to get this kind of money." She said. "Some people work all the time, with very little to show for it." Unbidden, the image of Arthur Weasley came into Fudge's head.

            "Who are you, and what are you doing in my office?" Fudge said in a firm but gentle voice. After all, she was a lady, and he was good with ladies. Over half of his voters last election were women. (A/N: I'm American, remember, so I'm assuming that voting goes the same for the British as it does in the U.S. I'm playing percentages here. Women outnumber men in world population, so it's only natural that women voters would outnumber the men.)

            "You may call me Blade, Minister, and I am here to address your less than honest business practices." Blade was a name that certainly suited her. Her voice sliced right through him. Fudge surreptitiously pulled his wand from his pocket. Blade, with her ability to see magic, watched as the wand made its journey to the ready position under Fudge's desk. Fudge may have been weak, but he did go through field training, and he had been part of the Department of Magical Catastrophes. He also had perfected a combination of spells to obliviate and subdue the subject in one go.

            Rather than wait, and cause him more undue stress, Fudge pulled his wand from under the table and leveled it at the woman before she could react. "I'm afraid, Miss Blade, that my business practices are none of your business." Fudge said. "Not that you'll remember them in a moment." He raised his wand, and in a move very reminiscent of Gilderoy Lockheart, said the spell. "Obliviatus Stupefy!" The spell, meant to erase the target's memory, and then stun them was a product of Fudge's own scheming. It was very useful in dealing with people who unknowingly discovered something they weren't supposed to see. Often it happened when his secretary was cleaning his desk, and sent the paperwork that he was revising off to its destination prematurely. She'd then pass out, and never remember doing it. The same went for the person who received it. All, in all, it was a very useful little spell.

            The spell's aim was perfect, and struck her right in the chest. She slumped in the chair, apparently knocked out. Excellent. Fudge gathered up his paperwork, and set it to one side. Now all he had to do was signal an Auror or two, and they would come collect her. He then realized that he'd made a small mistake. Earlier he'd given his secretary the amulet used to call the Aurors, so she could take care of the calling for him. One less thing to worry about, right? So, the Amulet was sitting on his secretary's desk. 

            As he began to open the door, the dagger that buried itself in the wall next to him stopped him abruptly. His face lost all the color it had. He turned around slowly, only to see the figure in the chair still slumped over. However, one of her hands was extended in his direction. Slowly, like a behemoth rising from the deepest waters, the woman stood. "Minister, I have only one word to say to you." Her voice said. The one word was enough to scare Fudge out of his mind. "Run." As she spoke, the air around her hand shimmered, and a coal-black sword appeared.

            When told to run by a very dangerous person holding a sword, there are very few people who would stand their ground. Fudge, remembering that she'd shaken his stunner without any apparent effort, needed no encouragement, and took off like a man chased by, well, a woman carrying a sharp object. On his way past his secretary's desk, he made a grab for the amulet, but missed. Not willing to risk a second attempt, Fudge took off down the hallway. He ran as fast as he could, taking several side hallways, and doubling back every so often. He finally stopped at a corner, just before the stairs, and looked around for his tormentor. She was nowhere to be seen.

            "Did I say you could stop running, Minister?" Came her voice, cold and sharp, from nowhere in particular. Fudge screamed in pain as something stabbed him from inside the wall. He fell over, twisting his body to try and relieve the agony, but it was no use. His eyes, which he had squeezed shut when he got stabbed, opened to see the woman step out from inside the wall. He knew immediately that she was one of the Shadow Masters that Shacklebolt had spoken of. And he knew his life was over.

**

            The next morning, Aurors would find the body of Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, inside the entrance hall. Attached to his cloak was a pin, just like the Visitors wore when at the Ministry. It said: **Cornelius Fudge** _Victim of IDC_. Around the body were strewn many loose papers, which upon closer inspection, revealed evidence of Fudge's embezzling.

**

            It had been going on for three days now. Harry and Hermione, who spent most of their time with each other, were growing increasingly annoyed by it. Ron seemed to be the new High Inquisitor of Hogwarts, and would not stop asking them questions about the summer. The morning after Hermione's transformation was no exception. The only difference was the mood Hermione was in, and the satisfaction they both felt. The last three days had been horrible, mostly because of the growing need to kill something. Now, the questions were only mildly annoying.

            Ron, on the other hand, was about ready to explode. Three days of watching, subtle questions, and outright interrogations had led to nothing. He was good, but they weren't letting him get an edge. It was frustrating. The worst part of the problem was the way they covered each other. Normally, he would get either Harry or Hermione alone, and question them, but they were ALWAYS together. They woke up at the same time, went to the same classes, studied together, and went to bed at the same time. Harry didn't even have Quidditch practices with him anymore, thanks to Professor Umbridge.

            Finally, at breakfast on the fourth day, Ron's temper got the best of him. "Damn it, you two! Why won't you just answer me?" He yelled, gaining the attention of the entire school. Hermione and Harry looked at each other, and walked out of the Great Hall. Ron, sensing a hint, followed them out. He followed them out into the Entrance Hall, and they sat down on a bench.  They were waiting expectantly, so Ron decided to start.

            "Why won't you guys tell me what went on during the summer?" He asked. "I mean what you guys did, and where you went?"

            Harry looked at Hermione. Hermione looked at Harry. They seemed to be conversing without words. They both sighed. They were going to tell him something. "We went on a tour of Europe, Ron. We visited many major cities, including, Rome, Venice, Prague, Barcelona, and Paris. We saw a total of six different countries." He said. "It's not a secret."

            Ok, this was progress. The next move was to Hermione. "Well, then what did you guys learn about on your tour? I mean come on, Hermione; you always are learning new things. Every year you go on a vacation, and then tell us about all the stuff you learn."

            Hermione wasn't fooled by the question. Now that she'd come into her powers, she could recognize the deceit in his question. Her mind rapidly put together the details, and she formulated a slanted response. "And every year, you make it well known that you'd rather do anything other than listen to me talk about my summer. Why the sudden change?"

            Busted! Ron had to think fast. Unexpected move from Hermione! "Well, I was just curious as to what you were doing, that's all." That was a stupid thing to say. Ron had been pumping them for information for three days, and all because he was curious? It even sounded stupid to Ron.

            Harry responded to the silliness with sincerity, however. "Ron, the people who helped us learn over the summer specifically requested that we didn't tell anyone what we studied. They didn't want to risk their secret coming out into the open." It was a true, if misleading sentence. After all, their fake personas helped them learn. Their demon minds were quick and very clever, and they learned easily. And they most certainly didn't want their secret out in the open.

            Ron saw his opening. It was a guilt-instilling sentence, and it almost always worked. "You guys don't trust me?" He said, his face showing hurt. He was hurt, but mostly because they were trying too hard to keep him out of the Order. He didn't expect Harry and Hermione to try so hard during the test.

            "Yes, I trust you, Ron." Ha! The moment of truth! Finally, Ron would have his answers, and become an Order member. "But, who are you planning to tell?" Harry said, causing Ron's joyful thoughts to cease. Harry fixed him with a penetrating look, and he felt like he was being read like a book. Without the Occlumency training, Ron's mind was easy to read, and Harry immediately pulled out the memory of the Headmaster's little chat with Ron. "Was it Professor Dumbledore, Ron?"

            "No Harry, I wasn't planning on telling anyone." Ron lied, unaware that Harry knew the truth already. "Your secret would be safe with me." He tried his best to be sincere, but it sounded forced.

            "I don't believe you." Hermione said flatly. "Professor Dumbledore hired you to spy on us when Harry refused to tell him who helped us learn over the summer, didn't he?"

            This statement took Ron by surprise. Professor Dumbledore didn't know? Harry then spoke. "I doubt you would intentionally betray us, Ron, but since you weren't told that the Headmaster did not already possess the information he wants, you would have run right up to his office to report on your findings. And if we were to tell you now, there is a very good chance that he could use Legilimency to watch your memory f the conversation, and give us away anyway."

            Ron was dumbfounded. They were keeping secrets for somebody, and were doing a wonderful job at it. They wouldn't even tell Dumbledore. He would have betrayed them if they'd told him, and he might still, even if he didn't want to. "Don't tell me anything, guys. I don't want to betray you. Not now, not ever." Ron walked away slowly, lost in thought.

**

            "How do we do this, Albus?" Severus asked. He'd gotten a package in the mail that morning, with a note attached to it. The note was unsigned, but told him that the antidote was inside the package. Professor Snape was safe for the moment, but, being the hateful man that he was, planned to make Harry go under Veritaserum anyway. "I need answers, and I need them soon."

            "Severus, I believe we will need outside assistance." Albus replied. "I have a few contacts inside the Department of Magical Law Enforcement that I trust. We'll do it this afternoon, so Harry doesn't have time to prepare."

            "As you say, Headmaster." Severus said, and left.

**

A/N: I bet you all hate me, don't you? This chapter took far too long, and I apologize for that. I tried to write it faster, but I ended up rewriting it about four times. I just never felt right to me. Now it's here. Forgive me I beg of you!

**Paladin3030:** Don't say that in public, or people may get the wrong idea!


	16. Chapter 15: The Truth, The Whole Truth, ...

A/N: Ok folks, I'm back in action. The last chapter was fun, but this one is better. People keep asking me if demons are immune to truth potions. Well, if I told you that, you wouldn't need to read the chapter, now would you? Well, I'm sure you guys are looking forward to reading about the Ministry's investigative practices, so let's get right into it, shall we? Onward, my readers, onward!

**

Chapter 15: The Truth, The Whole Truth, and Nothing but a Pack of Lies

**

            It was in Transfiguration when Hermione finally noticed it. She was wearing her Cloak of Shadows in school! They looked like ordinary cloaks, but if anyone around possessed a natural scanning ability, she was in trouble. She looked at Harry in a panic, only to find that he too was wearing his Cloak of Shadows. She leaned over to him, and quietly asked why they were wearing them, and why she hadn't noticed earlier.

            (Quick A/N: Putting on a Cloak of Shadows doesn't mean getting it out from the closet and using it like an ordinary cloak. The cloaks are a defense mechanism of the Shadow Masters, which they can consciously control. They basically absorb an exorbitant amount of magical energy, rendering many spells cast in their direction absolutely useless. Hope I cleared that up for you.)

            Chuckling quietly, Harry responded. "I wondered when you were going to notice. They take a while to get used to."

            "What takes some getting used to, Harry?" Hermione asked. Since her recent transformation, her mind was more eager than ever to expand its knowledge.

            "Your instincts, Hermione." Harry said, still smiling. "I put mine on this morning as well, without really knowing why. It seems as if our inner selves do not want us to be completely human today."

            No sooner had he spoken those words, than Professor Mcgonagall told him that the Headmaster wanted to see him in his office. She told him to leave his things, and she would make sure that they found their way to his room.

            "Looks like our instincts were right." Harry said, still smiling a little. "I don't know what he wants, but I bet he's not just calling me up there for tea."

            Hermione gave him a tight hug, and a kiss on his cheek. "Good luck, Harry. Be careful of what you say, and keep your shields up."

            Harry nodded, returned her hug, and left the room. Hermione lost five points for disrupting class, but the lesson returned to normal shortly after.

**

            Inside the Headmaster's office, everything was ready. Professor Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, carefully schooling his features into an expression of dislike. He wanted Harry to believe that this was a Ministry investigation, but he didn't approve. Professor Snape was standing in the corner, his famous sneer clearly showing. He was reveling in the moment. Rebecca Adams was sitting at a small desk, her quill ready for dictation. She was there to record the Veritaserum transcript, and had no personal interest in the proceedings. Special Investigator John Simons, of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was pumping the Professors for information. He was working a very important case for the Ministry, and it seemed that Harry Potter had some of the answers he needed. Fudge's body was in the morgue, being examined, but there were four other bodies being investigated. John Simons was heading up the investigation, and was looking for any kind of information.

            His first big lead had come from Ollivander's the previous morning. While going through his records, he had found a core match. It was a Basilisk fang. When he had relayed this information to Albus Dumbledore, the man had given him the next big lead. There was a Basilisk body in his school, inside the Chamber of Secrets. After that, he got another lead from the man. There were only two people in the world who could open the Chamber. Those two people were Harry Potter, and Lord Voldemort. The Headmaster had set up several wards to prevent Lord Voldemort from entering the school, and none had been disturbed. That left Harry. John suspected that Harry Potter had supplied the wand core materials to the Imperial Dragon Circle, which would mean that he could supply him with more clues, and maybe even a contact.

**

            When Harry walked in the room, everyone was waiting. Harry looked around at the faces of his inquisitors, and instinctively tightened his mental blocks. Something wasn't quite right about this situation. He found out in a moment what it was.

            "Harry, I've called you up here today to answer some questions for the Ministry. The Ministry seems to suspect that you supplied some people with materials used in a murder." The Headmaster said. "John Simons has been authorized by the Ministry to question you under Veritaserum."

            Oh, so that was the game. Harry knew that John Simons, the leader of the Dragon Shepherds, the group in the Ministry trying to find the Circle, was working with the Order of the Phoenix. They intended to use Veritaserum to make him talk, did they? Harry let his mind become even less human. If they intended to use Veritaserum, he would have to use an experimental technique to avoid the questions. He's come up with the theory in mid-August, when working through his Potions essay. Now he'd get a chance to see if it worked.

            "Alright, Sir." Harry said. It was best not to tip his hand too early. "The accused would like to call a witness for his inquisition." It was not unheard of to do so. Veritaserum required witnesses in order for the transcripts to be used in court.

            "Harry, there are two of us in the room. Both of us are here to see that you are not questioned unfairly." Professor Dumbledore said.

            "True, but I want someone that I trust to be here for it." Hermione wanted to see if their experiment would work, and would no doubt want to take notes on how the Ministry questioned people under Veritaserum. "I believe I already made myself clear on the matter of trust."

            "Very well, Potter." Professor Snape sneered. "I guess you will want Miss Granger for this?" Harry nodded. "It won't do you any good, but she might as well be here for it, if only to see her hero disappoint her." Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Hermione would never forgive him if he let a learning experience like this go to waste! Since he was going under the truth potion, he couldn't very well take notes on its procedure, but Hermione could.

            Harry made himself comfortable while they waited for Hermione. Professor Snape was whispering to Professor Dumbledore, and the Headmaster was nodding every once in a while. Harry suspected that they were trying to figure out how to deal with the wild card that he added. Harry was fairly sure that they would either use a sleeping spell, or a potion in her tea. It would be amusing.

            Hermione arrived about five minutes later. She took a seat, and readied her quill to take notes. The two Professors paled considerably when she pulled out her writing instruments, but said nothing, other than to offer her some tea.

            "Why thank you, Professor. I would love some tea." Hermione smirked, causing Professor Snape to jump with surprise. Hermione smirked? It defied logic, the thought of Hermione smirking.

            Professor Snape, who was standing in front of the tea service, turned around to pour the tea. When he turned around with the tea in his hand, Harry could see the dull glow of the sleeping potion in the tea. He glanced at Hermione, who met his eyes smiling. She noticed it too. She accepted the tea, and made to blow on the steaming cup. As she blew on the liquid, Harry watched with amusement as her aura flared around the teacup, obliterating the potion's magical properties. When Hermione's aura faded back into her skin, the teacup had stopped glowing. Harry could render the Veritserum useless as well, but that would not help them. His method was going to be different.

            Five minutes later, everyone was still sitting, waiting for some sort of signal to begin. Professor Snape was still scowling at Harry, but kept glancing over to Hermione. Hermione was sitting waiting to start taking notes. Harry was watching everything with a smile on his face. Finally, Professor Dumbledore nodded, and John Simons administered the Veritaserum. Almost immediately, Harry's mind got fuzzy, and he stopped thinking, letting the previously made connections reassert themselves.

            John Simons started. "What is your full name?" This was a standard question to open any Veritaserum interrogation.

            "Harry James Potter" Was the answer he got. Checking his records, he found it was true. Veritaserum did not allow them to use shortened names, but Harry was the name on his birth records. The serum was working.

            "Did you procure a Basilisk fang for someone you met over the summer?"

            "No." It wasn't a lie. He had procured two Basilisk fangs over the summer, but not for someone he met over the summer. One was for himself, the other Hermione.

            John was surprised by the answer, so asked it again, slightly differently. After all, it was almost a fact that Harry was the only person in the world that it could have been. "Harry, did you enter the Chamber of Secrets over the summer?"

            "Yes."

            "Did you take any fangs from the Basilisk?"

            "Yes."

            "Did you give them to someone?"

            "No."

            "Do you still possess them?"

            "No."

            "What happened to them?"

            "They were taken." Over the summer, after Harry's Veritaserum epiphany, they had invaded the Chamber of Secrets and taken the fangs. They then left them next to a tree in the forbidden forest. The next day, Hermione went back and took them. It was the truth.

            John Simons was discouraged. Harry admitted to taking the fangs, but it seemed they were stolen from him. That didn't help his investigation. He yielded the floor to the teachers, who were still pale-faced. Hermione was still not asleep, and was taking very thorough notes. Professor Dumbledore took the floor.

            "Harry, who taught you Occlumency?"

            "Professor Snape." It was a true answer. Snape had taught Harry Occlumency last year. He did a horrible job of it, as he was more interested in making Harry re-live the worst moments of his life than teaching him how to block the spell.

            "Did you have extra help in practicing Occlumency over the summer?"

            "Yes."

            "Who helped you?"

            "Nytemare."

            The assassin. Assassins had taught Harry and Hermione over the summer. Seeing his chance, Dumbledore continued his questioning. "How many members of the Imperial Dragon Circle have you met?"

            "Six." That was the number of confirmed assassins they were aware of in the circle. It seemed as if Harry had met them all. Hermione was still taking notes, even though this questioning could implicate her.

            "Do you know any of their real names?"

            "Yes."

            "What are they?"

            "None of your business." Once again, it was a truth. Hermione couldn't help but smile. Veritaserum may force you to tell the truth, but as long as the statement was truthful, and the person giving the answers believed the statement, it was a usable answer. Since Harry honestly believed that the Circle's true identities were none of the Order's business, he could tell them that.

            John Simons was mortified. He had only seen that type of answer once before. Harry seemed to have been conditioned. Conditioning was a type of brainwashing used to beat Veritaserum. Basically, it supplied the brain with answers to certain questions. What that meant was that when Harry thought about the true identities of the Circle, his first thought was that it was nobody else's business. He was horrified at the thought of any other triggers. He gave Harry the antidote before Snape could start questioning him.

            Hermione gathered her things, and the two Gryffindors left the office.

**

            After the two teenagers left John filled everyone in on the possibility of conditioning. He also brought up the fact that conditioning was only ever used on spies and assassins because they were the ones that most often got caught when they failed.

            "I think that those two are being trained as assassins for the Imperial Dragon Circle. Watch them carefully, Albus. The last thing we need is for those two to get out of our control." John said.

            "I'm not sure we can control them anymore, John." Albus replied. "I think we need to induct them into the Order, so we can have them swear loyalty to the light. As Order members, they would not be allowed to keep secrets that would endanger people's lives, so they would have to give up the identities willingly."

            It was decided that Harry and Hermione would be offered the chance to join the Order of the Phoenix at the next meeting, right after Ron Weasley gave his report on his findings. The Headmaster had received a note from the boy earlier stating that he's found some very interesting information, and would reveal it at the next order meeting.

            Snape was in a bad mood for the rest of the day. Damn that Potter!

**

A/N: Everyone Hates me! I feel terrible, so I think I'll stop this story. There, see what you've done? I hope your happy! Just kidding folks, I'm not done with this story yet. Nope, to answer everyone's unspoken question, Demons are not immune to Veritaserum. However, they do not necessarily have to tell the truth. They just can't lie. Coming soon, Flame and Blade disrupt more meetings!


	17. Chapter 16: Pardon the Interruption

A/N: I've got over 240 reviews! I am over the moon about it! Ok, everyone seemed to enjoy the Veritaserum Chapter. Well, remember back in Chapter 5, when Dumbledore said the two Shadow Masters were almost impossible to deal with? Let's see how the Order deals with two, shall we? Oh, and just to be fair, let's send them to Voldie's camp as well. Ready? Here we go!

**

Chapter 16: Pardon the Interruption

**

            "My faithful Death Eaters," The snake-like Dark Lord began, "It has been two weeks. Two weeks I have given you to find out whatever you can about the Imperial Dragon Circle. Now, you will tell me what you have found." Voldemort was feeling good. Snape had given him the antidote to his malady, and he was back in action. He was really looking forward to punishing somebody tonight. "I want numbers first, my servants. How many of them are there?"

            A man stepped forward and accounted for six of them, which he named. Unable to resist the urge to say something, Snape stepped forward as well. "My Lord, he is incorrect. There are six confirmed assassins, but I can confirm a seventh entity known only as 'Leader,' who apparently picks the targets for them." In truth, Snape was the only person with this knowledge. The unsigned note that came with the antidote said that Leader wanted him to have it. The seal on the envelope was the same as the insignia he's seen on Flame's robes when he'd disrupted the meeting.

            Voldemort's wand whipped out, and the erring man was under the Cruciatus Curse for a good thirty seconds. "I expect better service than that, Baxter." He said. "Next, I want to know if anyone knows the identity of any one of the Imperial Dragon Circle assassins." Nobody moved. "I will punish all of you if nobody has anything to say." He growled. Slowly, a woman stepped forward.

            "My Lord, I do not have a solid answer, but I may make an educated guess." The woman said. "While we do not know who they are, there is someone who does. I believe that person is Ha-" She dropped off abruptly as a knife buried itself in her throat. All the Death Eaters jumped, wands out, casting curses into the shadows, trying to find the source of the knife.

            "Shameful gossipers, the lot of them." Said a feminine voice from one of the shadows. Immediately, several curses were sent that direction. Receiving no indication that any of their spells had hit, they waited. "And they're terrible marksmen, to boot." The voice said, from a different shadow.

            "I know what you mean, Blade." A male voice spoke from yet another shadow. Several spells were sent in that direction too, but apparently missed their intended target as well. "Plus, they seem to be overdoing it a little with the spells. I mean who sends killing curses at unknown targets? With that kind of magical draw they're going to wear themselves out before they even find us." It was true enough. Some of the more inexperienced Death Eaters were sweating behind their masks, the spells tiring them out more than they would admit.

            "Cowards! Show yourselves!" Voldemort screamed. The two figures in the shadows laughed.

            "Of course we're cowards!" The man said. The group of Death Eaters stared at the shadows in disbelief. "Why should we come out and face you, when we can just as easily stay here?"

            "Besides," the woman piped up. "You're no better, snake-face!" This prompted an indignant growl from the Dark Lord. "Even Octavius Grindelwald used his real name when he terrorized the world. You can't even do that! What kind of Dark Lord are you?"

            Names. These two beings were going into the name game again. Suddenly, Voldemort knew he was in the presence of the Shadow Masters. He just had to smile. "Ah, my Shadow Masters have joined me at last." He said, in a very forced cheerful voice. "Come out, my pets, and meet your master."

            There was more laughter from the shadows, and then the woman's voice, cold enough to give Voldemort frostbite, came. "You? Our Master? Don't fool yourself, snake-face! Our master is Lord Voldemort, not some half-breed named Riddle."

            "I am Lord VOLDEMORT!!" The snake-faced man shrieked, his blue-purple veins straining proudly against his pale skin. "I am the true descendent of Salazar Slytherin himself. My blood is purer than any!"

            "Tell that to your followers, but don't think you can fool us, you filthy half-breed. Your name is Tom Riddle, and you can't change that." The male voice said. As if to illustrate his point, an arm reached out of the shadows, and pointed a gloved finger at the Dark Lord. "Recognacio!" The voice said. A blue light shot straight at Voldemort, and struck him square in the chest. Immediately, in large gold block lettering, Three words appeared above his head. The Dark Lord looked up to see the words 'TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE' written clearly above his head.

            Seeing his chance, Voldemort spoke. "I will prove to you that I am your master." That said he swished his wand at the golden letters. Within moments the letters had rearranged themselves to form different words. It now said 'I AM LORD VOLDEMORT' in the golden letters. Then, Voldemort, in true Slytherin fashion, smirked. "There you are. Now you see who your master is."

            There were a few moments of silence, followed by the two Shadow Masters hysterical laughter. "Tell me, Riddle. Do you honestly think that demons play word games?" The man's voice said. "Rearranging the letters of your name doesn't mean anything to us."

            The woman's voice continued. "Your true name is Tom Riddle. You're nothing more than a filthy Half-breed. You might as well accept it, because you can't change it. Frankly, I'm surprised that you have as many pure-blood followers as you do, seeing as you're just a half-blood."

            At this point, Voldemort lost all patience with the duet of demons, and yelled at his death eaters to attack. Spells were cast everywhere for the next five minutes, all shadows being hit with multiple killing curses. When the last killing curse fizzled out on the wall, the Dark Lord looked around, rather satisfied with himself. It didn't last long, however, as twenty of his followers dropped dead in the next second.

            "I told you they were poor marksmen, Riddle." Said the male voice. "I can't believe that your followers killed each other trying to kill us."

            "It was really stupid, wasn't it?" The female voice spoke up. "Well Lord Riddle, it has been a treat. We'll see you soon. Watch your back!" She sang in a child-like voice.

            The two Shadow Masters disappeared, and Voldemort screamed in unbridled rage.

**

            "God, that was fun!" Hermione said, when they were safely back at Hogwarts. "I never thought that the terrifying Dark Lord would look so funny."

            "In the right atmosphere, I'm sure that humans find it quite frightening." Harry said.

            "I know, but as frail as he looks, I don't understand why everyone is afraid of him."

            "Hermione, it's all about presence, or lack of it, if you will. Riddle wants people to be afraid of something they've never even seen. Hence the whole He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named thing. When he actually appears in public, his Death Eaters sort of carve a path to terror for him. Most people are more afraid of the troops than the commander. So, when they see all of his followers bowing and groveling at his feet, it adds to his whole image." Harry explained. "Voldemort himself would command very little respect without his followers, and that's why we're getting rid of them."

            "I understand that now, Harry." Hermione said. Now that she thought like a demon, her previous questions seemed kind of stupid. "We have another meeting to attend right now, do we not?"

            "Ah yes, The Order of the Flaming Turkey. I bet they want us to join them. How shall we decline?" Harry said, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Or should we let our friends in the Circle decline for us?"

            "Blade really wants to meet the Order." Hermione said. "And, I'm sure the Order would love to meet her as well."

            "Ok then, Circle it is." Harry replied. "Here's what we're going to do…"

**

            "I call this meeting of the Order of the Phoenix to order." Albus Dumbledore said, in his most authoritative voice. "Hey, that sounds a bit redundant, doesn't it?" He finished, twinkling his usual twinkle. "First on our agenda, Ronald Weasley has a report about Harry and Hermione's summer studies." The whole group sat up straighter, anxious to hear what the two Gyffindors were up to over the summer. "Ronald, if you would?"

            Ron walked up to the front of the room, and faced the Order. "I've been working on gathering this information for five days now, and I'm absolutely shocked by what I've found out."

            Now the Order was really interested. Whatever it was, it was big. Molly and Arthur Weasley were beaming with pride. They had no idea that their smiles were going to be for nothing.

            "First, I found out that they traveled around Europe during the summer. Apparently, Hermione's parents wanted to see the sights, and were kind enough to take Harry with them." This was not news, as the Order already had this information. "Second, Harry and Hermione, while on vacation, went to every Wizarding library they had access to. Why they did this, I have no idea. I mean, I understand Hermione doing it, but not Harry." Ok, that was news. That meant that whomever they met with, they met in the libraries. Ron paused for a moment, for dramatic effect.

            "Now, here's where it gets interesting." He said. The Order was really paying attention. "I found out that the Order of the Phoenix is a manipulative, fraudulent organization." The whole Order slumped back in their seats. Molly and Arthur felt horrible. "I found out that the information you sent me to get was a secret that nobody but those two knew. You used me, manipulated me, to get information that you weren't meant to know. You jeopardized my relationship with my two best friends so you could get a secret."

            "Ronald, please understand." Dumbledore said. "It was for the greater good."

            "Who are you to decide what the greater good is?" Ron said hotly. "You may think you serve a greater good, but in the end, it all comes down to control. Knowledge is power, and you wanted to know how powerful they became over the summer. You wanted them under your control again. Well, they're not under control yet, and I won't help you get them under control!"

            Ron started pacing the room. "I used to think that the Order was the best hope of defeating Voldemort." Ron paused for a moment. He had surprised himself by using the Dark Lord's name. He watched as several Order members flinched. "I thought that until I saw how you used the resources you have to try and pry into a sixteen year-old hero's private life. As of now, I'm ashamed of every moment I ever spent wishing I was a member."

            "Mr. Weasley, that information may help keep our spies in the Dark Lord's camp alive." Minerva Mcgonagall said.

            "Who should have been pulled out by now." Said a voice from the shadows. As one, the entire Order looked toward the shadows. Mad-eye's magical eye was looking intently into the shadow, but saw nothing. "I'm here with a message again, my Orderly friends." The voice said. The Shadow Master stepped out of the shadows, clad in his battle robes, cuffed with flames.

            "And, I thought I'd accompany him today." A second voice, this one female, said. Another Shadow Master stepped out of the shadows. She was wearing battle robes as well, but these were cuffed in dark silver material that looked razor sharp. "You may call me Blade." She said with a small mocking curtsy.

            Mad-eye Moody, who always does his research when he needs information, was somewhat ready for the newest invasion. Whipping out his wand, he banished a chair at he nearest Shadow Master, who just happened to be Flame. The Chair went flying straight at him, but never made it. Quick as one could blink, Flame pulled a weapon from his belt, and pointed it at the flying chair. He pulled the trigger, and a white light erupted from the barrel. The light hit the chair, and it blew apart into several thousand pieces. Putting the weapon back in its place, Flame spoke one word, albeit several moments late. "Reducto."

            The Order was struck dumb. Never in their lives had they ever seen anyone use a spell like that before. However, before anyone could really react to this new information, Blade spoke up. "Flame, what is that thing, and where did you get it?"

            "Nytemare made it. He's a tricky little devil, isn't he?" Flame said, the laughter evident in his voice, although his face was shrouded in shadows under the hood of his cloak. " The things he puts together amaze me every time."

            "Now," the female Shadow Master said. "On to business." She walked up to the front of the room, every eye following her every movement. "You were told, quite expressly, to pull your spies out of Riddle's camp. You have not done so. Why?"

            Dumbledore was the one to answer. "Severus Snape, our last active spy, is installed in a very public position, as Potions Master at Hogwarts. We cannot come up with a workable extraction scenario."

            Flame laughed. "Please, tell me that you're joking. Are you wizards, or muggles? It cannot be that difficult to stage his death, or something equally deceptive."

            Dumbledore was back in his element. As long as they were talking, he could hopefully trick them into providing help. "You see, it is difficult to stage his death, or anything similar, because the mark on his arm ties him to Voldemort. Voldemort will always know whether or not he lives."

            "Then why not just remove it?" Blade said.

            Now it was Snape's turn. "How ignorant are you? Several of the top minds in the Wizarding world have tried for years to get rid of the Dark Mark. It's impossible." As soon as he finished, he found himself pinned to the wall with 4 coal-black throwing knives.

            Flame chuckled. "A bit of advice. Never call Blade ignorant. She takes it quite personally." He walked over, and grabbed hold of Snape's arm. He looked at the Dark Mark carefully, and then laughed. "The greatest minds of the Wizarding world, eh? I pity the Wizarding world." He placed his hand on the mark, and said a very simple spell. "Deletrius." Snape bit back a scream as the skin on his forearm was removed from his body. "Immendo." And relief swept through him as the open wound healed up. Flame let go of his arm, and everyone looked to see the result.

            Shocked silence followed the revelation for a few moments. Finally, a rather ecstatic Snape broke it. "It's gone!" He cried, almost in tears from joy. Any normal human would be on his knees thanking god, but Snape only allowed himself a smile.

            "Now that Voldemort can no longer track him, get him out." Flame said. "You have forty-eight hours until the next Death Eater meeting. We'll be watching it. If we see him posing as a death eater ever again, we'll kill him ourselves."

            The two Shadow Masters disappeared into the Shadows once again, leaving a shocked, confused, apprehensive, yet joyful Order.

**

A/N: Big update for me, because it marks the halfway point in my story. From here on things are going to get interesting. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Coming soon, Dementors on the prowl!


	18. Chapter 17: Dementing the Dark Lord

A/N: Wow! I sure got a lot of reviews on that one! I am left speechless, so this particular Author's Note will be short. I just want to respond to a couple of people, then we'll get started on the dementing, ok?

**SerenityBliss:** Why should it? The Dark Mark is like a cattle brand that resists attempts to remove it. Basically, it's just a tattoo that changes color and burns when activated. Voldemort, being a wizard, would not think of removing the flesh that it's burned into, then growing new skin, untouched by it. It's actually a simple process, but wizards have a tendency to miss the trees, as they're too busy gawking at the complexity of the forest. (Yes I know that sounds backwards, but think about it.)

**Blank_eyes:** Excellent point, my friend, excellent point. Now let me tell you why you can throw it out the window. How many people does Voldemort kill personally? I highly doubt that there are many. Yet, everyone fears him. Why is that? It's because he commands a small army of sadistic wizards and witches. Since Voldemort commands the Death Eaters, people associate him with all the murders and crimes carried out by them. In actuality, they're not as afraid of the man himself as they are afraid of the cloud of darkness that he surrounds himself with. By dispersing the cloud, you reveal the true face of the fear, which is not nearly as frightening. In other words, without a body, the head can't function, and will cease to be a threat.

Now that I've said my peace, on with the Dementing!

**

Chapter 17: Dementing the Dark Lord

**

            Back inside the Chamber of Secrets, where Harry and Hermione kept their weapons and secrets, (A/N: It's the Chamber of Secrets, people. There have to be secrets in it, or it just isn't cool.) Hermione cornered Harry.

            "Harry, what is that thing?" She pointed at his belt, where the weapon, which resembled a muggle toy, resided.

            Harry chuckled. Leave it to Hermione to want every single bit of information she could get. "It's a ray gun, Hermione, what does it look like?" He pulled it off his belt, and showed it to her. Sure enough, it was a ray gun. A muggle toy, found in any toy store, that flashed lights and made noises when the trigger was pulled. "I just added a little Technomancy to it, and it became a Reducto-matic."

            Hermione took it from him, and walked over to the workbench. Once there, she pulled out a screwdriver, and carefully opened the plastic shell. Inside was the most advanced piece of Technomancy she'd seen yet. Connected to the batteries was an extra set of wires, that led to a silver plate, with runes cut in a spiral pattern, culminating in the exact center of the plate. Sitting on the plate, directly connected to the center, was a perfectly cut white crystal. Each facet had a rune etched into it, denoting them as barriers. At he apex of the crystal was a flat spot with a gate rune carved into it. That was the release point. The trigger assembly attached to a small silver rod that extended down the barrel. On one end of the rod was a triggering rune. When the trigger was pulled, the triggering rune would meet the gate rune, and the spell would be released through the silver rod, and projected where it was aimed.

            "The runes on the plate are there to transform electrical energy from the batteries into magical energy for the reductor curse." Harry said, coming up behind her. "Your crystal magic idea gave me the basis for it."

            "Harry, when did you make this? We've been together for just about this whole school year so far, and I've never seen it before." Hermione asked, wondering how she could have missed him working on such an advanced project.

            "The night of your solo outing. I got bored waiting for the surge, so I started playing with crystals, and that is the end result." Harry said.

            "Well," Hermione responded, "I'll just have to make something more advanced and impressive then, won't I?"

            "Be my guest, Hermione." Harry said. "I look forward to seeing what you come up with."

            "Ok, but I'm not starting until tomorrow. I need some sleep before classes tomorrow."

            The two Shadow Masters quickly made their way to Hermione's room, using the shadows to their advantage. Harry climbed into bed, and so did Hermione.

            "Now, We celebrate." Said Hermione, before catching Harry's mouth in a passionate kiss. (A/N: Use your imagination here, so I can keep my story on Fanfiction.net) They didn't get much sleep before classes, even though that was the reason they went to bed.

**

            John Simons was not happy. Rebecca Adams was missing. She'd left the ministry the night before, and had not shown up the following morning. It was possible she was taking a sick day, but she didn't call in. To tell the truth, he was worried about her. She had been witness to a very sensitive interrogation, and was possibly in danger because of it.

            Another investigator from John's team knocked on his office door, and then entered quickly. "We just found twenty-one Death Eater bodies in Diagon Alley." This was good news for the Ministry. Twenty-one Death Eaters dead was a good headline for the Prophet. The man continued. " They were piled up right at the entrance to Knocturn Alley. This note was found inside one of the pockets of their robes." The investigator handed him a small piece of parchment. On it was written a familiar muggle phrase.

            _Never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups._

_            Flame & Blade_

_            Imperial Dragon Circle_

            "All but one of the Death Eaters we examined were hit by multiple killing curses, most of them originating form one of the other Death Eaters' wands. It looks like they got into some sort of fire-fight with Flame and Blade, and hit each other instead." The man said.

            "What about the other one?" John asked.

            "She died of a knife wound to the neck. There was also impact trauma, suggesting that it was thrown at her." The man said

            "Were you able to identify her?"

            "Yes, sir. It was Rebecca Adams." (A/N: Did anyone see that coming?)

**

            It was becoming more and more difficult to find Voldemort in something other than a foul mood. Right now, he was picturing the headlines in the Daily Prophet, proclaiming that his Death Eaters were killing each other. It made him look foolish, and the Wizarding world was beginning to doubt his power. That would not do. He was trying to think of an appropriate display of power to sufficiently terrify the world.

            The Imperial Dragon Circle was terrifying his followers. They were reluctant to go on missions, and when the missions encountered any kind of resistance, they turned tail and ran, their skin more important to them than his plans. He took a joy in punishing them, but this was getting ridiculous!

            The Vampire Nation had declined to join him, wishing to be left alone. He would deal with them later, but they were of no help to him at the present time. Werewolves were also out, as the next Full moon wasn't for two weeks, and as humans they were useless to him. Come to think of it, the only dark creatures he really had at his disposal were the Dementors….

            There it was. That was the idea that he'd been searching for. The Dementors would march against Hogwarts! Sure, Dumbledore could stop them eventually, but they could probably take a fair number of student souls. The world would panic, and he'd be powerful! It really was brilliant. The Dementors were, after all, expendable. Now, which Death Eater should lead them? It would have to be someone stupid enough to march on Hogwarts, cowardly enough not to question his plan, and ultimately expendable. Who else would it be?

            "Wormtail!" He yelled. The man, pathetic as he was, slinked into the room. Given Voldemort's recent mood swings, he was positively terrified. "I have a job for you."

**

            It was during their D.A. meeting that Harry and Hermione first felt it. Nobody else felt it; their magical senses were not nearly sensitive enough, but the two demons both felt the massive influx of demonic presences. They exchanged a look. Dementors were coming. Lots of Dementors were coming. Harry stood up.

            "Last year, we learned the Patronus charm in this room. Today, I want you all to practice it. Right here in this room. Hermione and I have something to take care of, so help each other out." The others agreed, and the two demons left the room.

            Their first stop was the Astronomy tower, to throw off the Veritaserum tests. Being tested was unlikely, but just in case, they wanted to make sure that the answer to the question "Where did you go after leaving the D.A. meeting?" was answered with "To the Astronomy tower." It also provided them with a wonderful view of the Dementors gliding up the path leading to the school.

            "Sent the whole troop, didn't he?" Hermione said. "I think that group is the entire Azkaban population."

            "You're most likely correct, Hermione. After the way we humiliated him last night, he'd be furious. The worst blow to his ego is the twenty-one Death Eaters that died last night. Not only does that seriously damage his forces, but it makes him look weak in the eyes of the public." Harry said. "Riddle can not afford to look weak. His entire power structure is based on fear of his power. Sending the Dementors to Hogwarts is a rather desperate attempt to reassert his power on the world."

            After taking a good look at what they were up against, they traveled to the Chamber of Secrets, to get suited up. Harry put on his black combat robes with the Circle emblem, done in red, on the front. Shifting his magic slightly, his cloak appeared on his shoulders. Hermione did the same, her emblem done in silver. Harry then strapped on his sword, merely for decoration, as the Dementors would not dare attack them. Hermione didn't grab any weapons, since she could conjure her own.

            Their next stop was the Entrance Hall. Harry and Hermione needed to make sure that no student or teacher could interfere. Discussing the problem earlier, they had come up with the perfect locking spell for the doors. Since their spell casting power was nowhere close to Professor Dumbledore's, they had to use their ingenuity to lock them, rather than magical prowess.

            Hermione reached into one of her robe pockets, and pulled out a small device, which Harry had enchanted earlier, before her awakening. It was a Starlight Stone, enchanted so that the light was only visible to their eyes. Hermione walked out the doors, and set the stone on the steps outside. Walking back in, the demons could clearly see the shadows that were cast by the doors. Working quickly, and calling forth their full powers, the two demons bound the _Shadows_ to the floor. Now, until the stone itself was removed, nothing could open the door, since it would be impossible to move the door without changing the shadows. Human magic users would never think of checking the shadows for binding spells. (A/N: Bare with me on this, it's demon magic.)

            Once the school was secured, meaning no Dementors could get in, and no humans could get out, the two demons used the shadows to travel outside, placing themselves in the path of the Dementors.

**

            Albus Dumbledore was sitting in his office, working on new ways to discover Voldemort's plans, when the wards alerted him to the presence of Dementors on school grounds. Acting quickly, he used one of the Headmaster items in his office, the announcement stone, to send all students back to their dormitories immediately. Looking at the map, he watched as the little dots with student names over them made their way to their common rooms. He looked out the window of his office, and surveyed the scene. Dementors, hundreds of them, were gliding towards the school. He left his office in a hurry.

            By the time he made it down the steps, the rest of the teachers had gathered there, wondering what was going on. He quickly told them about the impending attack, and the teachers made their way to the Entrance Hall. Reaching the door, Dumbledore tried to open them, and found he could not. He tried several unlocking charms, even a spell detection spell, to find out what had been placed on the door. Nothing produced any effect.

            Collecting himself, he dashed into the Great Hall, and to the window. He made to open the window, but before he could even start, the scene outside captured his attention. The Dementors way was being blocked by two figures. The truly astonishing thing about this, however, was the fact that the Dementors had stopped, and lowered themselves to an almost kneeling position.

**

            Outside, Wormtail was frantic. His Master had given him a task, and made it very clear that if it wasn't finished, he would be. Now, the Dementors were bowing to these two people! His fear gave him the strength to speak.

            "What are you doing?! Continue the attack!" He shrieked. The Dementors ignored him. They started making odd growls and shrieking sounds. To Wormtail's immediate surprise and terror, the two figures answered them in the same sounds.

            Harry and Hermione, or Flame and Blade as they were now playing, felt their vocal chords changing to suit the demon language. To them, it sounded like English, but to humans, it sounded like soundtrack from a horror movie. (A/N: Think of the Ring Wraiths from Lord of the Rings.)

            The lead Dementor was the first to notice them. His posture had immediately changed from silent assassin to unworthy subject. He stopped, and all the rest stopped behind him. He lowered himself, in what appeared to be a bow, and the rest followed suit.

            "My Lord Shadow Master. I humbly greet you." Said the leader.

            "Dementors. To what do I owe this visit?" Flame said

            "Our Ally bids us to dine here tonight." The leader said. "He gave permission to fully satisfy ourselves in this place."

            Harry laughed, which to Wormtail sounded like an unearthly shriek. He fell to his knees whimpering. "Do you believe that you can find satisfaction here? Weren't you given a sample of what you would be eating?"

            "No, My Lord, we were not. Lord Riddle surrounds himself with such excellent souls, however, and he informed us that they were raised here." The leader said. "We assumed that the souls here would be equally palatable."

            Harry raised his hand to the level of his chest, palm toward the sky. A ball of magic began to form in his hand, in which he deposited the 'flavor' of Susan Bones, a Hufflepuff student. As he made the ball, Wormtail tried in vain to get control of the situation once more.

            "The Dark Lord commands that you attack this place, and take as many souls as you can! He can not be defied!" Wormtail's words were actually dripping with desperation now. "His power over you is absolute!"

            Blade shifted her attention to the rat-like human. "Absolute? Hardly, you miserable rat. Dementors may be his allies, but they are our subordinates first. We are demons, and they are wraiths. We outrank them, so to speak. Now shut your pathetic mouth, before I cut your throat open, and leave you to bleed here on the grass."

            Wormtail's eyes bugged out at the threat. Standing in the middle of Three hundred Dementors, these things were threatening him. As much as he feared the Dark Lord, these two frightened him much more at the moment. His mouth shut with an audible snap.

            Meanwhile, Flame had finished his ball of magic. "This is what food is available here." He said, tossing the ball to the lead Dementor. The Dementor, knowing that the ball was a sample of the prey, caught the ball immediately. It raised the ball to its mouth, and inhaled. A loud shriek, that sent everyone in hearing range into uncontrollable shivers was heard from the lead dementor.

            In the demon tongue, it was much more clearly stated. "This is rubbish! How can we be expected to eat this filth. There is no flavor, and no substance either!" Flame had chosen Susan Bones' 'flavor' since he knew her personally. She was the cleanest soul in all of Hogwarts. Dementors were some of the foulest creatures that walked the planet, but their purpose was to destroy the foulest souls on the planet. Contrary to popular Wizarding beliefs, Dementors did not feed on happiness. They fed on negative emotions such as fear, anger, guilt, and sadness. That was why Dementors sucked the happiness out of places. It was tasteless and indigestible to them, so they got rid of it, making way for the negative emotions to come through. That was why the Patronus charm worked against them. A corporeal Patronus was the essence of innocence and happiness, and was completely un-appetizing to them. "My Lord, do you have something I can get rid of this foul taste with?"

            Behind the shadows made by his hood, Flame smirked. "Why not eat him?" He asked, pointing to Wormtail.

            "My Lord, he is protected by some sort of shield, emanating from the necklace he wears." The Dementor said. "It is the same necklace that the Head of the Ministry wears."

            "Really?" Harry reached out with his aura, and felt the blocking spell place on the necklace. "Let's fix that, shall we?" Getting a firm hold of the necklace's magic with his aura, he pushed his aura harder, and crushed the structure of the magic in the necklace. "Eat, my friend, eat."

            Wormtail felt coldness envelope him, and realized that the necklace he was wearing was not working. He tried in vain to transform into a rat, but the horrible memories of being punished by his Master wouldn't let him concentrate on it. He felt a hand grasp his neck, and looked into a face that would give him nightmares, if he were ever to think again.

            Once that task was done, Flame surveyed the Dementors. They were still standing still. "My Lord, how may we serve you?" The leader asked.

            "I can only think of one thing you can do." Flame said. The next sentence was enough to cause the Dementors to shriek with demonic joy. "Go home, my friends. You've been kept away too long."

            As one, the Dementors turned around, and walked away. Their destination was the only portal from this world to the next, the veiled archway in the Department of Mysteries.

**

A/N: Wormtail is a shell!!!! This chapter was one of the hardest ones I've ever written. I just couldn't seem to make anything happen in it, until the end. I have a problem with the next chapter, so I'm putting it to a vote. Which Assassin pair takes Bellatrix LeStrange out of the picture permanently? Send me a review with your vote.


	19. Chapter 18: Revenge is a Dish Best Serve...

A/N: Wow guys! I got 68 reviews for one chapter. I'm truly touched by that. Lots of questions to answer from the last chapter, so I'll do that real quick, then we'll get into some more fun with demons!

**Blank_eyes:** I really like your viewpoint on Voldemort. Now watch closely, as I completely ignore it. As good as it sounds , and as logical as it is, it doesn't work with my plotline. And about the multitasking thing, I don't see any of that in the real books. He is very focused on one thing at a time. It's a lot like a very large chess match. He only makes one move at a time. I also have to change one of your quotes from your last comment. What good is power if it's paraded in front of everyone? Voldemort relies on not showing his true power to anyone, so the speculation of how powerful he really is causes more fear, and gives him more power in the community.

**SilverDagger:** As much fun as that sounds, no. I like the idea, but it's not running with my plotline. Maybe I'll write another story with that idea in it though. I do like it.

**Crazy_Poet:** My Shadow masters have a HUGE weakness, and I'm surprised you haven't recognized it yet. Their biggest weakness is on offense. The Cloak of Shadows that they wear takes a lot of magic to sustain itself, and they can't turn it off. They sacrificed offense for a super-strong defense. This is why they don't battle. Hell, they barely have enough raw power to transfigure things. If they over tax themselves magically, their defense cloak will begin to weaken, and they will be vulnerable. So, attacking from the shadows and assassinating a single target is perfect for them.

**

Chapter 18: Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold

**

            "Harry, I have a job for you." Hermione said. The two demons were down in their sanctuary, the Chamber of Secrets. Hermione was working on a device she'd found in an Outdoors supply shop. She wouldn't tell Harry what she was doing, but promised it would be fun, and completely infuriating.

            "Oh, really?" Harry said. "And what job might that be?"

            "I need a hair from the head of Bellatrix LeStrange." Hermione said simply.

            Harry's eyes flashed, and his teeth were bared in a snarl at the very thought of Bellatrix LeStrange. Before he could start to feel too much anger at her, he realized that whatever Hermione was working on would be made with LeStrange as the main target. The snarl turned into a very sinister smile, as his eyes flickered with dangerous humor. "I can do that. I'll be right back!" He said, and then melted into the shadows.

**

            It was dark in the room. Harry waited, melded with the shadows, for his senses to report the contents of the room. First, Bellatrix LeStrange was in the room, sleeping on the rather luxurious bed. Harry's senses came back with the initial report. Bellatrix was paranoid. She had cast a proximity ward on the room itself, so she would be alerted if anyone entered the room, from anywhere. Her proximity charm reflected her paranoia as well. The structure of the ward was so intricate that Harry could not nullify it without setting it off. Even with his ability to see the magic, he could not find the proper keystone to make the spell fall apart without setting it off.

            The next problem was somewhat simpler, but just as dangerous. The Kinesis charm in the room was tied into the proximity ward. If the ward was tripped, not only would Bellatrix be woken, but also the several bladed objects in the room would attack the spot where the wards were broken. Harry could easily sidestep this problem by pushing a hand through the wall, and then retracting it before the blades reached him. Unfortunately, that would awaken LeStrange, and ruin his whole plan. Harry had originally thought of entering her bathroom, and taking a few hairs from her hairbrush, but Hermione had nixed that idea. For her device, she needed a living follicle, and the ones on the hairbrush were dead.

            There were also several other spells on various objects around the room, but these looked to be more protective against other Death Eaters than a Shadow Master. (A/N: I'm going on the assumption that the convicted Death Eaters are staying at Voldemort's stronghold, wherever it is.) It looked as if these other spells were tied into the proximity ward as well, no doubt to inform LeStrange who was stealing what, and when.

            After careful consideration, Harry began testing the ties from the proximity ward to the other spells. Following one of the tendrils, he decided that he couldn't dismantle the spell from the ward side, but he might be able to cut it off from the object side. Focusing on one of the books on the shelves, which Harry assumed to be a Dark Arts text, he reached out with his magic, and with a deft motion, sliced through the connection. The ward did not trigger. All right, this was good news. When he's severed the connection, one of the keystones fell, and the proximity ward became slightly simpler. He focused on another one, and severed that linkage as well. Once done, he focused on a third object, and severed that connection as well. This was a mistake. The ward triggered, and Bellatrix jumped out of bed, wand ready.

            Harry cursed his stupidity. He hadn't realized that the keystone of the ward could be located in a separate object. Had he known, he would have used a different method of disabling that one. Now he had to think on his feet, which he was good at, but quick thinking clashed with the Shadow Master instincts of planned assassination. His human mind worked over time, and his Shadow Master instincts modified the plan slightly. He moved to a shadow by the door, and pushed his hand though the wall. The blades sprung to life, and hurled themselves at the breach in the ward. Harry pulled his hand back quickly, and the blades embedded themselves in the wall. Harry changed his voice modulation slightly, and pretended to shriek in pain.

            "Looks like my little trap has caught me a rat." Bellatrix said. "Oh, Peter, did you honestly think I'd let you get away with spying on me?" Harry, didn't know whether to laugh out loud, or vomit. LeStrange, although evil to the core, was a strikingly beautiful woman. It was quite humorous, in a very disgusting way, to imagine Wormtail as a peeping Tom. Harry had to valiantly resist laughing out loud as another image invaded his mind. A Snake-faced Pettigrew, with red eyes, playing peek-a-boo. (A/N: Get it? A Peeping Tom!) Harry gathered the shadows using his powers, so that the evil woman could not see anything in them. If his plan worked out, she would come to investigate.

            "What's the matter Peter, cat got your tongue?" Bellatrix laughed. "Serves you right, you Sniveling rat!" She reached her arm into the shadow, and felt around for the offending person. Pay dirt! Harry grabbed her arm, and pulled hard, and Bellatrix was pulled to the wall, her arm sinking to the shoulder in the wall's shadow. Harry solidified the shadow, so she could not pull it out. It was a temporary thing, only held while he was present. Bellatrix shrieked in outrage. Harry reached out of the shadows, and grabbed a lock of her long black hair. With a malicious delight, Harry yanked on it, causing her to shriek again, this time in pain. His objective completed, Harry traveled the shadows back to the Chamber of Secrets where Hermione waited for him.

**

            Hermione was waiting when Harry returned with the hair, and was somewhat amused that he'd gotten much more than she'd needed. "What did you do, Harry, scalp her?" She said with a smile.

            "It wasn't exactly a surgical procedure." Harry scowled, then smiled. "However, I may have been a bit brutal. What can I say? I'm a demon."

            "Oh well, it works better this way anyway." Hermione said. In his joy of hurting her, he'd ripped part of her scalp off. Not a lot, just enough to expose the nerve endings. It would benefit Hermione's device in the long run, however.

            Hermione walked back over to the workbench, where she had a small plastic box open. Inside the box were several small circuit boards, a speaker, a microphone, and at least five rune crystals. Each crystal was connected to the circuit board using small silver wires, and each facet of each crystal had a rune of some type carved into it. Even though he didn't know what the device did, he was in awe of the example of Technomancy before him. Hermione took three strands of hair and, with several precise movements, braided them together, with the follicles at the same end. She took the braided strand, and attached it to the gate rune on one of the crystals. Then, she wrapped the strand around a length of copper wire protruding from the top of the box. Finally, she slid a rubber sleeve over the wire, and snapped the cover over the electronic components.

            "Finished?" Harry asked. Hermione nodded. "Good, cause you'll never believe what I heard while I was getting that hair…"

            Hermione and Harry went to sleep that night, still chuckling over Pettigrew's antics.

**

            The next morning, Bellatrix LeStrange woke up with a sore spot on her head. She cursed her stupidity again, and then got up to take a shower. (A/N: Just because she's evil doesn't mean she doesn't enjoy a nice, hot shower.)

            In the bathroom, Bellatrix found the consequences of her stupidity last night. In a small spot by her temple, she was missing a chunk of hair, and the skin from her scalp. A quick healing charm, and it was just a bald spot, but at least it didn't hurt anymore. She swore that when she found the one who did it, they would be killed, painfully. 

            While in the shower, Bellatrix received a big shock.

_"You filthy Mudblood!"_ Shrieked the voice of her Aunt, who always insisted on being called Mrs. Black. (A/N: Does anyone know what her first name is?) The voice was unmistakable. But she was supposed to be dead! Bellatrix spun around quickly, nearly slipping on the wet floor. There was nobody in the room.

            "I think I'm losing it." She said to herself.

**

            Harry was in hysterics. Hermione had finished her device, and tested it out. The muggle walkie-talkie that she'd found, plus a little Technomancy, created an artificial schizophrenia in Bellatix LeStrange. Hermione explained to him that any female voice speaking into the microphone, would be changed to Sirius Black's mother' voice, and any male voice would be turned into Sirius' voice. Harry couldn't resist the fun that could be had with it. He was listening to the monitor with an earpiece all day, and interjecting snide comments when he felt appropriate. By the time Voldemort called the meeting that evening to tell everyone about the fate of Wormtail, Bellatrix was in a right state.

**

            Voldemort was not having a good day. His plan to scare the Wizarding world out of its collective mind had failed. Peter Pettigrew was dead, and the Dementors were missing. At first Voldemort could not believe it. The Dementors had allied themselves with him, and then killed his servant? Impossible. Voldemort went to his Library and looked at his dark creature reference materials. There, he found his downfall. Dementors were lesser demons. That meant they naturally subservient to greater demons such as Shadow Masters.

            With a scream of rage, Voldemort threw the reference across the room. He stalked out of his library and found an underling. He pressed the Dark Mark on said underling's arm harder than he normally would, causing the underling to scream in pain, and pass out. He then stalked to his throne room, and awaited his servants.

**

            Bellatrix was the first one there when she felt the mark burn. It always pleased the Dark Lord for his servants to be prompt.

            _"Ooh, someone's got the hots for old Snake-face!"_ Said the voice of Sirius Black, her cousin. She'd been hearing him all day, and was ready to burst. However, she didn't reply to her blood traitor of a cousin, for fear of her Lord taking her response the wrong way.

            Many other Death Eaters were apparating into the room, kissing the Dark Lord's robes, and whispering greetings to their Lord. This set the voice off again. _"Look at them, Bella. Groveling like dogs before a half blood! Pathetic, isn't it?"_ This slander proved to be too much for Bellatrix LeStrange.

            "SHUT UP YOU FILTHY MUTT!" She screamed, interrupting Voldemort's opening speech. "I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU SAY, I DON'T CARE ABOUT ANY OF IT! JUST SHUT YOUR FACE!"

            The voice in her head was silent, and she breathed a sigh of relief. That relief was short-lived, however, as she noticed the look of rage on her Lord's face. Her expression quickly changed from relief to horror. "My Lord…" Perhaps he would let her explain.

            Voldemort leveled his wand at her. The next two words stopped all discussion. "Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort cried. Bellatrix fell dead. Dead silence rang through the throne room. The Death Eaters were afraid to speak. Voldemort was so violently angry that he missed the quiet snickers coming from the shadows behind his throne.

            It was a long night of punishment for Voldemort, who enjoyed punishing his Death Eaters, especially when he got on a roll. But he did manage to relay the news of Wormtail's failure, and plans were made to attack another target.

            Harry and Hermione left the meeting after watching LeStrange's death, and missed the planning of the attack. They would come to regret that decision.

**

A/N: That was fun, wasn't it? Not a whole lot to say in this note, except that in the next chapter, There will be an attack, and Voldemort will make a huge discovery.


	20. Chapter 19: Attack and Discovery

A/N: Well, it's been a while since I've updated. One month, to be exact. Lots of stuff has happened, but now it's time to get back into it. So, with no further words, On with my chapter!

**

Chapter 19: Attack and Discovery

**

It was early evening when the attack happened. Voldemort was hitting the last protection wards that Harry had when not in school. He'd done some research, and discovered what type of wards Dumbledore had set up at Harry's relatives house. It would be a quick surgical strike, ending the lives of Harry's last remaining blood relatives. Without a blood relative to feed the protection, it would fade, leaving Harry defenseless. It would also cripple the boy emotionally, knowing that Voldemort had killed off more people close to him. Voldemort pressed the mark on his servant's arm, and waited for his followers to arrive. While he was waiting, he remembered the encounter that he'd had with Harry that summer, in the very same house.

**

            _Darkness shrouded the street where Voldemort apparated. His research had finally paid off, just as his servant in the Order of the Phoenix had brought him the excellent news. The wards at Harry's home were based on Harry's blood, and detected any kind of magic done inside them. The research told him that as long as he didn't do any kind of magic, the wards would recognize him as the boy, and would think nothing of his presence. He pulled the silver dagger from his robe as he swept silently through the street._

_            The boy had once used the Gryffindor sword to defeat Slytherin's Basilisk. Now Voldemort would use Slytherin's dagger to defeat Gryffindor's golden boy. He had no idea whether or not Potter was any kind of descendant of Gyffindor, but it didn't matter anymore. He would soon be dead._

_            The door was locked. Normally, he would blast the door off its hinges with a reductor curse, but that would trip the wards. Fortunately for him, he had learned a few things from that muggle orphanage he grew up in. He knew how to pick a lock. Thinking about the orphanage brought back memories. He'd killed every one of those muggles when he'd risen the first time. So many screams…Ah, those were the days. Shaking himself out of his memories, he heard the lock catch unlock._

_**_

_            It was not a good night for Harry. Over the last month, he'd been feeling progressively worse. At first, he though it was just depression, but he didn't feel depressed anymore. He had been feeling depressed when he got back to his Aunt and Uncle's house, but the longer he thought about it, the less depressed he felt. It was almost as if his godfather's death was meant to be remembered, but not dwelled upon. _

_            It was almost like he felt sick, but not sick. He was not weak, but stronger than ever. It was just a feeling that something was wrong with him. He just couldn't place it._

_            It was the creaking step that first announced a foreign presence in the house. Harry was instantly wide-awake and prepared for company. He had his wand, and was ready to defend himself if necessary. He sat on his bed, waiting for his unexpected guest._

_**_

_            Damn the creaking step! Voldemort had begun to walk up the stairs, and the bottom step had creaked loudly. The dark lord froze in his tracks, waiting for any sound or indication of movement. Nothing. Voldemort almost chuckled. The most powerful wizard in the world was out for his blood, and the boy wasn't even losing sleep over it. Thinking about it again, Voldemort got angry. The boy wasn't losing sleep? That implied that he wasn't afraid. He'd better be afraid…_

_**_

_It wasn't hard for Harry to figure out who was creeping up the stairs, due to the fact that his scar was growing steadily more painful as it got closer. It was in that moment, just after the realization that Voldemort was on Privet Drive, that Harry knew that Dumbledore was only human after all. In his eagerness to protect Harry, he'd allowed Voldemort free access to him._

_**_

_            Voldemort eased the door to the boy's room open, and crept inside. There, he found a small surprise. The boy was awake, and watching. Voldemort smiled, cold and deadly. The boy was losing sleep._

_            "I assume this is about last weekend?" Harry asked casually, as if talking to a business partner, not his mortal enemy. "You should have kept out of my mind."_

_            Voldemort snarled. "Potter, I have come to end your pathetic life. You should be grateful. I'm sending you to meet your parents." Voldemort had tried to invade Harry's mind the previous weekend, but found himself standing in a chamber with a vault in it. Standing in front of the vault was Potter, and he had a large wooden club of some kind. Vaguely, he remembered the muggle boys at the orphanage had played some sort of game with them. He'd tried to curse Potter, but found his magic didn't seem to work. Harry then beat him unconscious with the wooden club. It had taken him three days to recover._

_            Voldemort had learned from past mistakes. To this day, he'd always been arrogant towards the boy, and the boy had always survived somehow. This time would be different. No speeches, no banter, no duels; just a dagger, and a dead Gryffindor. Voldemort had trained himself with the dagger, so that he could throw it with perfect accuracy. Quick as a blink, the dagger was in his hand, and Voldemort noticed with pleasure that the boy became frightened. He pulled his arm back, and threw the dagger. It seemed to claw through the air, begging to taste the boy's blood. The dagger was inches from the boy's chest, when the boy vanished. The dagger buried itself in the wall. Voldemort was stunned in his disbelief. The boy had learned to apparate somehow. Voldemort growled his frustration, then crept back out of the house._

_**_

            Voldemort was shaken out of his memories by several of his followers apparating in. He had only called about a dozen Death Eaters. It was one house, after all. There was one house and two targets, which meant two killing curses and one really big explosion. Voldemort didn't even need to lift a finger. But he did. He raised his wand to the sky and fired off his dark mark. Taking their cue, the Death Eaters charged the house.

**

            Harry watched the attack from afar, through the observation spell he'd set up in the streetlamp outside his Uncle's house. He'd warned them, before he left, that the house wasn't safe for them. He'd left a note, telling them what had happened the previous night, and told them to leave. They had not listened to him. It was almost a shame. It would have been truly a shame, if the Dursleys hadn't been such useless people. Well, they had served their purpose in life, and now they were no longer needed. It was odd, thought Harry with a derisive snort, that the most useful thing his Aunt had ever done was help power the wards that had kept him safe, even though she was completely unaware that she was doing it.

            It was sad that he was now without family, but he consoled himself with the thought that he could make a large family with Hermione after this war was over. Thinking about that, Harry went to tell Hermione about the attack, and possibly practice for when they wanted a family.

**

            It was a successful night for Voldmeort. The boy's Aunt and Uncle were dead, and the cousin was being found. Soon the boy would have no family left, and then he would die as well. Voldemort rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

            The feeling of glee quickly vanished when the skin peeled off of one of his fingers. Pain shot though his arm, and he lost movement in the finger. Looking down at it, the flesh was yellow and rotting. Something was wrong with him. Voldemort strode quickly to his library; hand in his pocket, to find the book on reanimating spirits.

            He quickly found the correct book, and began to scan though it. He finally found the passage he was looking for, and his eyes widened with horror.

            _When using this particular method of resurrection, it is important that the enemy dies soon after the ritual. If the servant should die before the enemy, the resurrected body will begin to deteriorate within a few days. The only way to stop this deterioration is for the enemy to die by the hand of the resurrected._

            Wormtail was the servant he'd used, and Wormtail was dead. Potter, however, still lived, much to his annoyance. The biggest problem was how to get Potter into his clutches. Voldemort sat back in his chair, and thought about it

            Finally, he hit on the perfect idea. He summoned two of his servants, who held a very specific position in the world, and told them what to do. Tomoorow would be a very interesting day for Harry Potter.

A/N: Voldemort is coming apart at the seams! Harry is in trouble. Next time, Surprises for Harry, and an Encounter with a Dark Lord.


	21. Chapter 20: Harry’s Surprise

A/N: Here we go again! Another chapter into the Fourth Power, and we're nearing the time when Voldemort meets his end!!!!

**

Chapter 20: Harry's Surprise

**

Halloween morning dawned at Hogwarts, and Harry met Hermione in the Great Hall for breakfast. Once again, they were both decked out in their shadow cloaks for reasons they didn't know.

They finished eating as the rest of the school began to meander into the Hall. Harry and Hermione, being demons, didn't sleep very much. Their bodies rested at an accelerated rate, so three or four hours a night were all they could manage. They simply sat back, and relaxed a while before classes.

Their relaxation time was cut into sharply by the pair of Ministry officials who walked briskly into the Great Hall. They were dressed in black robes, with gold trim, and a golden badge attached securely to the front. Harry and Hermione shared a look. These two were the best the Ministry had. They stood out among Aurors and any other Law Enforcers. They were the elite of the elite. They were Hit Wizards. However, it wasn't this fact that made Harry and Hermione share the look. It was the evil-looking crimson glow surrounding their left forearms. Not just Hit Wizards, but Death-Eating Hit Wizards.

The pair of Hit Wizard strode purposefully through the Hall, and stopped in front of the Headmaster. Once there, they shared a whispered conversation with the Headmaster, who nodded finally, and rose from his seat. He looked over at Harry, and Harry got the inkling of the plan.

"Hermione, this is the day we've been waiting for." Harry said with a small smile. "I think I've got the plan figured out, and it seems to be almost flawless. Too flawless, in fact, for the Dark Lord to pass up on."

"Oh?" Hermione responded, obviously intrigued. "Is it what I'm thinking too? Enlighten me a little, would you?"

"Sure. These two Hit Wizards came here this morning to tell Albus the news that Privet Drive has been destroyed. They'll also tell him that I need to come to the Ministry and identify the bodies. At some point, they'll require me to hand them my wand. Then they'll march me out past the apparition wards, and take me to their master. A nice big surprise, huh?" Harry explained.

"I thought as much." Hermione said. "Harry, this messes with our plan, though. We never even imagined that this scenario would occur during school hours. The teachers will miss me if I don't show up for classes."

"Improvise, Hermione." At Hermione's blank look, Harry elaborated. "Look, I know that you're not exactly human, but nobody else knows that. Remember your first year, when Ron called you a nightmare?" Hermione nodded, but stayed quiet. "If you were to get upset, and just happen to run straight to your room, do you think anyone would go after you?"

"I get it." Hermione said. "If I become distraught here at breakfast, then all the teachers will see it happen, and I should have solitude to do what needs to be done."

By the time Harry and Hermione had finished their whispered conversation, the two Hit Wizards had made their way over to Harry's place at the Gryffindor table, with the Headmaster following closely. "Mr. Potter?" One of the two began. Harry shifted his attention to him, and watched him expectantly. "I'm afraid we have some bad news for you." Harry did his best to change his facial expression to one of concern. "The Dark Lord attacked your home at Privet Drive last night." Harry pushed his features into shock and sadness, and watched the satisfaction flutter quickly across the Death Eater's face before he was able to push it down. "Both your Aunt and Uncle were killed in the attack, and the house was completely leveled."

It was at this point when Hermione began her act. She got a completely hysterical look on her face, and grabbed Harry in a hug. "Oh Harry!" She cried, squeezing him hard enough with her demon-enhanced physique that if he hadn't shared the enhancement he would have been nothing more than a mass of broken ribs. She released him, and bolted for the door, sobbing all the way. No one made any move to follow her. Step one accomplished.

Harry arranged his face so he looked rather shell–shocked, and began to walk away from the table. Now was the most critical part of the deception. If he expected anything, or even looked like he suspected anything the Hit Wizards would likely cut their charade short. That would be most disappointing.

Harry was not to be disappointed. "Mr. Potter," the other Hit Wizard started, "your relatives are muggles, and we don't have any way of verifying their identities. We'd like you to come down to the Ministry with us, and identify them." The Hit wizard tried to smile reassuringly, but the eagerness in his eyes was apparent. Harry knew that they wanted him outside the apparition field as soon as possible.

Harry, careful to keep the bewildered, in shock look on his face, nodded once and drew his wand from his pocket. The two Hit Wizards, flinched slightly, but mastered themselves quickly. Harry raised his wand, and said very clearly, "Accio Traveling Cloak." A few more moments, and the heavy cloak flew through on of the windows, and into Harry's hand. "Alright then," he said, his voice perfectly controlled to sound dead, "lead the way." Then, he turned away and directed his feet towards the door. Now, he just had to wait for the next step.

"Mr. Potter," The Hit Wizard said, "I am afraid that we will need you to turn over your wand until after you leave the Ministry." It looked as if the Headmaster was going to protest, so the elite Auror pressed on quickly. "It is one of the new policies set by acting Mistress of Magic Umbridge, you see. Since the death of Minister Fudge, no one but Ministry personnel is allowed any kind of weapon while inside the Ministry." The Hit Wizard tried to sound apologetic, but his acting needed work. It was good enough to fool any human, proven by the fact that even Professor Dumbledore was fooled, but it fell far short of fooling a demon, the master of deception. To Harry, the Hit Wizard sounded horrendously gleeful at the prospect of taking his wand away.

It was to Harry's advantage to act his part, however, and he allowed Professor Dumbledore to voice the concerns at leaving Harry wandless. "Surely you can wait until you get to the Ministry before taking his wand? With Voldemort lurking in the shadows," Harry had the unholy desire to snort at this expression, but contained it masterfully, "It would be very bad for Harry to be caught without his wand."

Harry read the nervousness in the man that came from having to play the Headmaster. The man's heartbeat accelerated, and Harry could see the cooling charm he'd placed on himself flare slightly, compensating for the sudden increase in his body temperature that would have made him sweat. He puffed himself up, and looked quite self-important. "Professor Dumbledore, we are Hit Wizards. Mr. Potter is safer with us than if six Aurors escorted him. We will see that no harm comes to him."

The Headmaster was going to protest further, but was silenced by Harry offering his wand to the Hit Wizard. Harry wanted to get this show on the road. He had everything he needed to fight his enemy, and his demon side was itching for the conflict. He kept his expression carefully mastered, revealing nothing to either the Hit Wizards, or to his Headmaster. The Hit Wizard took the wand, and tried valiantly to stifle the cry of surprise and pain that threatened to issue from his mouth at the amount of raw power flowing through Harry's wand. He was mostly successful, only allowing a gasp. He pocketed the wand, and began to lead Harry toward the door. Harry followed mindlessly, keeping up his image of a sixteen year-old in shock. Judging by the gleeful look he saw as he glimpsed the Hit Wizard's face, it was working perfectly.

A few of the students were watching with interest, and Harry did notice Malfoy's smug look out of the corner of his eye. He made a mental note to kill Malfoy later, much more slowly and painfully than he'd finished the father.

It didn't take long for the Hit Wizards to lead Harry out of the school's apparition barrier, and they apparated him straight to their destination. Harry, rather angry that they'd done that to him without warning, set about applying his revenge while still in the apparition. Apparating an unwilling person, or an unsuspecting person for that matter, was a painful thing for the victim. Without the focus, it took much longer for the body to put itself together, and hurt a lot more. Harry had been expecting it, and was almost focused when they had done it, so it didn't hurt him much. However, he was still going to take his revenge. Reaching into his well of reserve power, he flared his magic on the lower half of his body only. This effectively pushed the lower half of the two Hit Wizards energies further away from him than their upper bodies. The result was quite satisfactory. The Hit Wizards appeared, and promptly fell to the ground, their legs materializing approximately two feet away from their upper bodies. Harry had forced them to splinch themselves.

Cold laughter was heard in front of Harry, as no less than six Death Eaters appeared from the dark places in the room. Harry had seen them there, and did his best to act surprised. It was dark enough in the room that he didn't need to do that good of a job, but he did a fairly good job of it. The Death Eaters who had been waiting were laughing at the unfortunate splinch-ees, and didn't really make too much of an effort to notice Harry. One of them retrieved Harry's wand from the robe pocket of the bigger Hit Wizard, and the others dragged Harry to Voldemort's chamber.

In the darkness, when Harry was sure they couldn't see his face, His face twisted into a predatory smile. This was going to be fun…

**

A/N: Sorry to leave it there, but you're really going to love the next chapter. I want to make sure that I don't need to leave a nice big cliffhanger right in the middle of the biggest one-on-one fight in my entire story, so I'm leaving this cliffie instead. I hope you don't mind. Next chapter: The fall of a Lord.


	22. Chapter 21: The Fall of a Lord

A/N: I don't have a lot to say about this chapter right now, except that I'm taking Wolfmoon's advice, and putting my review responses at the end of the chapter. Other than that, enjoy the chapter!

**

Chapter 21: The Fall of a Lord

**

It was with a well-hidden smirk that Harry was forced to his knees at Voldemort's feet. He used the Death Eaters laughter and Voldemort's insane cackle to cover the sound of him dropping a small marble onto the stone floor. A flick of his wrist, and the marble was rolling merrily across the floor. The Death Eaters stopped laughing, and Harry crossed his fingers. It would not do for anyone to notice the marble, and if things didn't go as planned, the marble was going to give itself away by hitting the wall. The marble rolled into a shadow, where a slender, feminine hand reached out from the wall, and plucked the marble from the floor. Harry tried to hide his smile. Hermione had arrived. The marble was a locator, so that Hermione could find where he was being taken, even if the place was unplottable.

Voldemort was a good deal better at reading people than his Death Eaters, and saw Harry's mouth twitch before he could master his face. "Something funny, Potter?" He asked. The voice was amused, but Harry could hear the anger behind it. He wondered briefly whether Voldemort had any other emotions, but didn't really care.

"I was just thinking about a joke that my friend Ron told me this morning." Harry said, keeping his voice nonchalant. This was the tricky part, but Harry had gotten quite good at knowing what buttons to push.

"Well, isn't that nice." Voldemort said, sounding like a very cold version of Professor Snape. "Let's see how funny you find this. Crucio!" The curse struck Harry directly in the chest, and Harry fell to the ground in agony. The Dark Lord smiled maliciously at Harry's screams. Harry, on the other hand, was trying not to laugh while screaming. He really couldn't feel the curse, as it was being absorbed completely by his demon cloak, but had to act the part of being hurt anyway. If he didn't, Voldemort would know his secret, and things would get ugly quite quickly.

Voldemort kept the curse on Harry for a good fifteen seconds before lifting it. Harry rolled onto his side, and listened. Voldemort's evil cackle was prevalent, but he could hear five other Death Eaters in the room as well. Harry smiled fully for a brief moment. One down. Hermione had used his screaming to quietly dispose of one Death Eater. So far, so good.

"Well, Potter?" The cold voice was edged with a sneer. "How funny was that?"

Harry's reply was dry and almost amused, the perfect thing to push another of Voldemort's buttons. "Now I know where Snape gets his sense of humor." The pain came quickly this time, and Harry could feel his shield adapt to the dark magic. He screamed his throat hoarse, knowing exactly what Voldemort wanted to hear, and watched out of the corner of his eye as a thin black blade slid effortlessly across another Death Eater's throat before he was pulled into the shadows.

Voldemort was far too angry to notice his follower's plight. The boy had mentioned the name of one of his betrayers. Snape had stopped answering his calls, and Malfoy had reported that his mark had been removed. He would be dealt with, and soon. "Do not mention that traitors name in my presence, Potter. My wayward follower will be dealt with soon enough."

"Good to know that you have fast service. I'd hate to be kept waiting for, I don't know, fifteen years?" Harry said. He'd barely finished the sentence when he was screaming again. He could feel his cloak's shield adapting even further in defense of the Dark Lord's magical signature. He could now absorb several killing curses from the evil wizard, and not even notice the energy drain. He kept a sharp eye for Hermione's blade, but only saw a feminine hand wrap around a Death Eaters face, and under the mask. The hand clamped down, and Harry could see the point of Hermione's sword push the robe away from the body right around his chest region. Harry marveled at how quickly she was taking care of the Death Eaters. Three down, three to go.

"Well Potter, it all ends tonight." Voldemort said. "I am going to kill you tonight, but I think you need more punishment for causing me all this trouble."

"Were you really expecting something else?" Harry asked. "Did you really think that people wouldn't resist you?" The curse was intense this time, and Harry's cloak shifted even further. He couldn't even feel the curse anymore. He had to watch the light to know that he was supposed to be screaming. He watched out of the corner of his eye as an arm shot out and wrapped around a Death eater's neck, and heard the small crunch as Hermione broke his neck, and dragged him into the shadow. Four down, two left.

"You should be quiet, Potter." Voldemort said, his angry voice tinged with a sneer. "I don't know how much more pain you can take before you lose your mind, and I want you lucid when you die."

Harry needed Voldemort distracted, so wasn't about to listen to that suggestion. "I'm not the one cursing me, Tom." The pain would have been intense this time, since Voldemort obviously wanted Harry to suffer greatly for calling him by that name. Harry screamed his voice ragged, arching his back, and thrashing about on the ground. He'd have Hermione heal him in a few minutes, before taking on the Dark Lord. Voldemort wasn't doing any damage to him, but he'd broken his hand slamming it against the floor, and he'd pulled a muscle in his back when thrashing about. Harry glanced up, but couldn't see Hermione performing her task. He was worried for a moment, until he realized there was only one Death Eater left. Hermione was fast on this one. He hadn't even seen it. Five down, and the last one would die soon.

When the curse ended, Voldemort decided it was time to move on. "Well Potter, I must say it has been quite a trip. You've been a very worthy adversary, but in the end, all must bow to Lord Voldemort." Voldemort missed the anger in Harry's eyes when he called himself by his assumed name. "Send my love to your parents Potter. Avada Kedavra!" The blast of green death slammed into Harry's chest, tossing him back five or six feet, where he fell completely limp. Voldemort released his highest pitched evil cackle. He would now be able to rule unopposed. There was still Dumbledore to deal with, but he was old, and his protégé was dead. He was so happy with himself that he didn't notice the faint cry his last Death Eater gave as he was stabbed through the back of his neck. The blade twisted once, and exited. The Death Eater dropped dead instantly, only twitching slightly.

Voldemort began shedding his clothes. Now that he would be the unopposed ruler of the world, it was time he looked the part. He donned his most regal looking emerald green robes, and adorned himself with several articles of silver jewelry. It was at this moment that he felt the air grow heavy around him. His head jerked up to the snakehead on top of his throne. It was gone! The large emerald that he'd used as the keystone to his anti-apparition ward had been taken! Now that it was no longer in his possession, he couldn't apparate either. He knew however, since the apparition field was still in effect, the stone had not left the room. He began searching the room. The first thing he noticed was the lack of Death Eaters in the room. He called for them a couple of times, but received no answer. 

Looking into the darkness, he finally saw them, but it did not make him happier. They were dead. All six of his inner circle members were dead. His head whipped once more to where Harry Potter should be lying dead near his throne. To his dismay, he saw no body, nor any indication that he was dead. Well, that wasn't good. He needed Harry's body to decimate the hopes of the Wizarding world. It would be far harder to do it without the body of their savior.

An ethereal voice spoke from nowhere in particular. _"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…Born to those who have thrice defied him, Born as the seventh month dies…And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"_

Voldemort froze. That was it! That was the prophecy that had led him to his downfall almost sixteen years ago. He'd only heard the first part, and had unwittingly completed the second part. Well, it didn't matter anymore. Now that he'd killed the whelp, he was truly unstoppable. The prophecy said so.

"One has to wonder, though. What kind of power, do you suppose, did Harry have that you didn't know?" Came a voice from everywhere at once, but mostly centered in the shadows of the room. Voldemort's lips once again curled into a smile. His wayward Shadow Masters had returned, now that he'd proven himself the most powerful.

"It really doesn't matter now, does it?" Voldemort said. "I am invincible now, and he's dead. It was probably the pitiful protection spell that his mother left him, anyway."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that, Riddle." Came the voice, this time centered in a particularly dark shadow near the corner. "Perhaps, Riddle, the power that he possesses is an innate immunity to the killing curse. Did you think to check his body for a pulse or anything?" Voldemort's eyes widened slightly, but he said nothing. "I didn't think so. Or," the voice said as the Shadow Master stepped into the room, "perhaps he can travel without apparating as well. If those two are accurate, then it explains where he went, doesn't it? Of course, the better explanation of where he went would most certainly be that I myself took him from this room."

"Bring him back then. He is my trophy, and I will display his rotting carcass as I march on the Ministry of Magic." Voldemort said.

"Riddle, Riddle, Riddle. You surprise me again. What, in the name of whatever gods you worship, would give you the impression that I would do as you say?" The demon said. "My loyalty is to my Lord Voldemort, and no one else."

"Still on about the name game, are we?" Voldemort sneered. "You would do well to obey me, demon. I am now the most powerful sorcerer in the world."

"Perhaps, but even you, the most powerful sorcerer in the world," The demon said, "can't harm me with magic."

"We'll see about that, now won't we? Crucio!" Voldemort said lazily, like the curse would obviously work. The crimson beam of light struck the demon right in the chest. The demon didn't even flinch. Voldemort was temporarily dumbfounded. The cloak was just absorbing the light from the curse, and the demon just stood there. Deciding it was just an unnecessary draw on his reserves, Voldemort ended the spell.

"That was rather pathetic, Riddle. If you had actually put some effort behind that curse, I might have felt it tickle a bit, but I didn't even notice that one. I don't think I've ever introduced myself." The demon said. "You may call me Flame."

Voldemort's expression turned calculating. If he could find out the demon's true name, he would have a hold over him. "Your name is Flame?"

"No Riddle, Flame is not my name, but you may call me Flame, all the same" Flame said, his voice amused, and almost familiar.

"I like to call things by their true names. Tell me yours." The smile would have been benevolent, but the snake imitation made it difficult to look anything but menacing.

"I have so many names, Riddle, I'm not sure which one to give you." Flame said, his appearance altering slightly, so he looked just like the assassin that Voldemort had met inside Stonehenge. "You met me once as Nytemare," his appearance changed again, "LeStrange was killed by me as Venificus." His appearance changed back to his original robes. "And the Order of the Phoenix has been hunting me as Flame. But I have so many more names than that." The demon began to wander towards Voldemort, who had once again resumed his position by his throne. "My Aunt and Uncle used to call me 'boy.' My partner calls me 'sweetie' sometimes." He was getting closer, and Voldemort was actually starting to get nervous. "At school, I was known as 'freak' because of my cousin. But then we get to the really interesting names. In the beginning of my life, the wizarding world called me a hero. By the time I got to Hogwarts, some called me 'a legend.' The general population called me 'The-Boy-Who-Lived.' I called myself 'worthless' for a while." The demons hands grasped his hood, and lowered it, revealing the face of Voldemort's nemesis. "But my friends just call me Harry."

"Potter!" Voldemort cried, his surprise evident. "I just killed you! You're dead!"

"You don't really believe you can kill a Shadow Master with a simple curse, do you?" Harry sneered, an expression very uncharacteristic to his face.

The transformation from fear to glee was almost magical as Voldemort's expression changed. "So, the Shadow Master spirits I called wormed their way into your body, did they? That's wonderful news, Potter." Harry was wondering where this was going, but didn't need to wait long to find out. "There is a way for the summoner of demons to take control of them away from their chosen masters, and bind them to his service." Harry merely raised an eyebrow. He was familiar with the ritual, and knew of the way, but wasn't sure how it was supposed to help Voldemort out. "And the best part? The spell is quite simple, if you have experience with the imperious curse."

Harry now knew where this was going. "I doubt that the spell would help you very much, Riddle."

"What do you know about it?" Voldemort questioned angrily. "Nothing! Now that I have your true name, I can bind you to my service, and you can do nothing to stop me!" He leveled his wand at Harry, and spoke the words he would come to regret in a few moments. "Imperio Dominatus Harry James Potter!"

The spell struck Harry in the head, and the room was filled with a pulsating forest green light. Along with the light, came smoke that swirled around Harry, testing him, verifying his identity. Harry could feel the magic working on deciding who he was, and then he could feel the rejection from the smoke. The smoke turned a deep red color, and the light pulsated from green to orange. The smoke left him, and swirled around Voldemort instead. Suddenly, the orange light all was gathered into the cloud, and Voldemort began to scream. Orange lightning crackled across the surface of the red cloud, arcing to Voldemort's body, which writhed in pain with each new arc. It carried on for several minutes, before the spell ended quite abruptly, leaving Voldemort breathing heavily, resting on his knees.

"Ouch." Harry observed. "That looked quite painful. I'm guessing you weren't quite prepared to face the consequences of spell rejection."

"H-How?" Was the only word Voldemort could stutter through his clenched teeth.

"How did your spell fail?" At Voldemort's nod, Harry explained. "Harry Potter is the name of the human that I've inhabited. The spell you cast is made specifically for controlling DEMONS. Since you were trying you control the demon spirit inhabiting this body, you needed to cast the spell using the demon's name, not the host's."

Voldemort was in too much pain to really think, but he knew there were other options, if he could just think of a way to stall.

"Unfortunately for you, Riddle," Harry continued, "I now have the right to end your life as the punishment for guessing my name incorrectly. It simply wouldn't do for me to allow you another guess, now would it? You might get lucky the next time."

Voldemort had finally regained enough of his faculties to mount a counter-offensive. "Wait." He said, and Harry paused. "Kill me, and you'll never see your precious mudblood again!" Harry shot him a confused look. "Did you think that my followers only took you from the school? Did you honestly think that the Great Lord Voldemort wouldn't have a backup plan? My friends in the aurors took young Miss Granger from the school minutes after you left. Kill me, and she dies!"

It was a bold lie, but a convincing one. Harry knew it was a lie, since Hermione had been helping him just moments ago, but he couldn't detect the lie in Voldemort's mind. It was impressive Occlumency for a human. Harry decided to play along. "Name your terms, Lord Riddle."

The cruel smile returned. "Serve me until I let you go, and I will release your precious mudblood."

"First term is denied." Harry said in a flat voice. "After all, you'll be dead in a few minutes, and then I can go look for her myself."

"When I go, all my Death Eaters will know it, and they will react accordingly. The two that hold Miss Granger have very explicit instructions to exact my vengeance on her." Voldemort sneered. It was another bold lie, but this time Harry could see it. The pain from the control cloud weakened him, and his barrier was falling.

Harry chose to ignore the last lie, and began to build a fire in his hand. "Any other last minute terms before you die?" At Voldemort's incredulous look, Harry continued. "I'm a demon, Riddle. Surely you don't think that silly little school friendships mean much to me?"

Voldemort was about to enter full-blown panic mode. "Allow me to live, and turn your attention elsewhere, and I shall release Miss Granger, and leave you alone for the rest of your life."

"And how does one release that which he has not captured?" Harry said, his eyes growing dangerous. "As for leaving me alone for the rest of my life, that will happen as soon as I end yours." The fireball in Harry's hand was now about the size of a baseball, and continued to grow, ever so slowly. Voldemort regarded it with unhidden fear.

"Don't lie to yourself, Potter. If you think you can delude yourself into killing me by believing that I don't have your precious mudblood, the truth is still the truth." Voldemort said, trying to mask his fear once again.

"That is true, Harry." Came a voice from inside the shadows. Hermione stepped out of them, her hood down showing her face. "And this thing wouldn't know how to speak the truth, even if he tried. He's lived his entire life based on lies. Put him out of his misery."

Voldemort leveled his wand at Hermione. "Avada Kedavra!" The green bolt of death sped towards Hermione, who made no attempt to block the curse, or even to dodge out of the way. The curse struck her directly in the stomach, but seemed to be absorbed by her cloak, leaving her completely unharmed. Hermione reacted in kind, sending one of her black knives hurling at him. Voldemort brought up his shield, but the knife cut right through it, almost like it wasn't even there. With a cry of pain, Voldemort dropped his wand. There was a knife stuck in his arm, right at the elbow. His hand had gone limp when the nerve had been severed, and the wand fell from his hand.

Harry pulled a wand from the hem of his traveling cloak. "Accio Dagger!" He said, pointing at Voldemort's pocket. The fireball in his other hand continued to grow, ever so slowly. It was almost the size of a softball now. The dagger of Salazar Slytherin sped towards him, only to be plucked out of the air by Hermione, showing skill that any seeker would be proud of.

"Would you like to know how I got the name Flame, Riddle?" Harry asked innocently, as the fireball finally reached its full size, right about the size of a softball. "I didn't actually give it to myself, you know. Hermione gave it to me, when she saw what I could do. This fire," He tossed the ball into the air slightly, and caught it, "eats magic. It won't harm anything else, and won't do any permanent damage to structures. But it won't stop until it's eaten all the magic it can touch." The ball was once again tossed leisurely into the air, and caught. "Let's see what happens when my magical fire is introduced to a magical spirit, who happens to be walking about in a body created by magic." With that he threw the ball straight at Voldemort.

The ball hit Voldemort, despite his attempt to dodge, right in the hand. His hand began to disintegrate as the ball began to eat the magic in it. Voldemort began to scream, but was silenced by a spell from Hermione. The two demons watched as the Dragon flames ate every part of Voldemort's body, leaving nothing as evidence, not even ashes. Harry and Hermione could feel his magic diminishing, and they knew he wouldn't come back.

Finally, the flames died, and Harry surveyed the scene. There was a set of regal green robes lying on the floor in a heap, and a silver signet ring with the Slytherin crest. He picked up the ring, and put it in his pocket. He walked slowly over to Hermione, and they shared a bone-crushing hug. "Happy Halloween, Hermione." Then, in an even quieter voice, he said "Happy Halloween, Mom and Dad."

The two young lovers just stood there for a moment, basking in their love, and the newfound freedom of their now demon-free lives. Suddenly, Harry got an odd look on his face. "Hermione, do you feel different?"

**

A/N: It stops there, people. This was a hard chapter to write, because it was always to easy for Voldemort to be killed, so the chapter kept coming up short. I finally got the version I'm happy with, so I'll leave you with a small cliffie to celebrate. I'm not putting any review responses in this chapter, since it's been so long since the last one. I hope you all enjoyed reading this chapter, and look for the next one soon.

Coming soon: A horrible realization, and time for Plan B! (And no, people, Voldemort is not still alive.)


	23. Chapter 22: Bad News and Plan B

A/N: Sorry to all my loyal fans of Draconus, but the plot has bottlenecked a bit in chapter five. In a feeble attempt to apologize for this little snag in my otherwise well thought-out plot, I'm giving you another Fourth power chapter. Enjoy!

**

Chapter 22: Bad News and Plan B

**

Hermione still had her eyes closed, reveling in the feeling of freedom. "Yes, I do feel different. I don't feel like I have to kill people anymore. Harry, this is wonderful!"

That obviously was not the answer Harry was looking for, and his face showed it. "No, Hermione." He said. "I know that part. I meant do you feel any different physically? Do you feel normal, or could you still pick Hagrid off his feet one handed?"

Hermione thought about it for a second, then her eyes shot wide in horror. "I still feel the same! What happened to us, Harry? We didn't change back!"

"I had a thought about this just after my awakening, and I was hoping it wasn't going to happen" Harry said. "Our bodies couldn't handle the demons' magical structure, so they altered them, right?"

Hermione's brain put the pieces together quickly. "But, when they left, they were forced out by their summoner's death, and couldn't change our bodies back to the way they were. So, we can still do all the special things that we could do before." As if to emphasize the point, she stuck her hand right into the wall, sinking into the shadow made by her hand. From the wall, she pulled one of her coal-black swords, and threw it at Voldemort's throne. The rapidly spinning blade sliced right through the throne, without even slowing down, and then disappeared into nothingness again.

Harry was amused by her antics. "I must admit, Blade, that I'm still jealous of the ease with which you can use your special ability. Mine is more powerful," He said, making a tiny ball of fire in his hand, about the size of a marble, "but it takes me so long to gather enough fire to affect things properly, that it's almost useless."

"I don't know, Flame. It certainly worked on our esteemed host, didn't it?" Hermione teased. "That's my job, after all. I give you the time you need, and you obliterate the target when you're ready. Have you figured out how to stop it yet?"

"Nope" Harry said. "Anything you throw at it just intensifies it. It will only stop when it eats up all the magic it touches. I can keep working on it, but I won't use it too much anymore. Especially with how powerfully magical we are now."

Hermione closed her eyes, and sought her center. What she found surprised her beyond belief. "What happened?" She yelled. "We weren't this strong before the demons, and especially not during the demons. How did we get so strong?"

"I have a theory, but without my demon to confirm it, it's just a theory." Harry said. "The demons were a constant draw on our energy reserves, so we got used to it. Kind of like wearing twenty-five pound gloves, then trying lift weights. After a while, our magic started to grow to compensate for the draw, until we didn't really notice the draw anymore. Now, without the draw, we get all that energy back. So, it's like taking the gloves off, then lifting the same weights. It's much easier than it was, because our magic has become stronger."

"That's a good theory." Hermione said. "It seems to fit what my center says, so we'll take that as the best explanation." Hermione's face turned serious. "Now, we have a new problem, though. We are far stronger than we were ten minutes ago. Without the demons to help us control our power flows, we have to work on it, so everyone is going to be suspicious of us."

"You're forgetting the biggest problem, Hermione." Harry said. "We are the Imperial Dragon Circle. We're demons now, even if it's only in body. Everyone in the wizarding world will hate us out of fear. It's very possible that the Ministry will even send out teams to destroy us. We can't be members of wizarding society anymore."

"Well, at least we're not alone in that, are we? We have that in common with werewolves, vampires, drow, elementals, and necromancers." Hermione said. "Each and every one of those peoples is treated with disdain and outright fear by wizarding society. They can't even get proper magical training, thanks to the Ministry!"

Suddenly, Harry's eye lit up with something. Hermione couldn't tell if he was preparing for battle, or meaning to make mischief. "Hey Hermione," he began, "is all the Shadow Master information still in your head?" Hermione thought, then nodded. "Well, how much extra knowledge would we need to train any one of those peoples?"

Hermione's eyes lit up with a mixture of anticipation and worry. "Harry, are you thinking about moving on to plan B?" Harry smiled, and nodded. "Why? Plan B was our fallback scenario if Riddle went to ground. He didn't go to ground, we put him in the ground. So, why start the backup?"

"Simple, Hermione." Harry said. "We need something to do with ourselves since we can't be normal wizards anymore, and all those peoples need proper magical training. If we provide them with said training, we'll keep ourselves busy, won't we?" Hermione was dumbfounded, and just nodded. "Ok then, the plan B scenario is officially begun. What do we do first?"

Hermione shook herself, and got down to business. "We need a location. Somewhere that is easy to defend, and big enough to house a population of at least five hundred." Harry made the note on a conjured piece of paper. "Next, we need a few aides. I don't think we can do this without help."

"Remus will help, if we can separate him from Dumbledore." Harry said. "I have the utmost respect for Albus, but he's always trying to control every situation, and it's very annoying."

"Next," Hermione continued, "we'll need to organize defenses for the compound, both above ground, and below. The last thing we need are a bunch of wizards disturbing our training facilities."

Hermione thought of something. "Harry, do you realize that, if we do this, we'll have to miss our N.E.W.T.s, right?"

"Yeah, but it doesn't matter much. Our magical core structure is too different from normal wizards for the tests to be accurate anyway." Harry said.

"I suppose you're right." Hermione said, just a bit dejected. "Still, it would have been nice to have the credentials."

"Yeah, but we can't have everything." Harry said. "So, what else?"

Hermione got back to business. "We'll need books, and lots of them. We'll need a library that rivals the one at Hogwarts. Only a few of the peoples will be able to learn from the spell books, but we can help the rest adapt the magic."

"Anything else?" Harry asked. "The list is a bit small. I can't believe that this list is everything."

"Well, I can't think of anything right now, but if something else comes up, we'll just add it later." Hermione said brightly. "Now, the big question. Harry, do we tell the world that Voldemort is gone for good, or do we let them wallow in their fear for a while longer?"

"Well, the Death eaters already know that he's dead. When he was bluffing me with your safety earlier, he wasn't lying when he said the marks were connected to him. Right now," Harry said, "every one of those marks is trying to re-establish its bond with the master." Hermione winced. "Yeah, every living Death Eater is in quite a bit of pain right now. They won't be hard to identify. Most of the Order, since they know that only I can kill him, will believe that Voldemort is simply punishing them for something."

"Ok, that's the plan so far. Any location ideas?" Hermione asked.

"One, and I think it might be perfect. Have you ever been to Azkaban, Hermione?" Hermione shook her head. "I went there once, just to make sure my dementor problems were really solved. The Prison is huge, easily capable of housing 500 people. We can re-fit the cells with bunk beds and real doors. They're big enough, if we combine two cells to make one room. The best part about Azkaban is the grounds though. The island is small enough to defend, but large enough to sustain plant life and food enough to support all the occupants. We'll need to enlist some help from the elementals to make the island able to grow anything, and to tend our food supply, but I'm sure we can work it out."

"Ok, so we need to talk to Remus about helping with the wolves, we'll handle the Vampires, Drow, and Necromancers, and we'll help the elementals." Hermione said. "I know that they have a system of training for their children, but I think they stay on the safe side, so they don't draw attention to themselves from the wizarding governments. We'll offer our help, in exchange for theirs."

"Perfect." Harry said. "So, plan B is off the ground. Now, we need to keep our profiles low for a while. Use a dampening crystal on your wand, so it mutes the spell effects. We don't want your stunner to make the entire school pass out."

"But first, we're going to celebrate the fall of Voldemort in a much more cozy environment." Hermione said, just before she caught Harry's mouth in a kiss to take his breath away. Harry returned the favor, and began to slide into the shadow at his feet, taking Hermione with him. There was nothing more intimate than sharing themselves in the shadows.

**

A/N: Well, there you go. I know, it's a little bit shorter than you wanted, but it is a rather necessary chapter. I promise you this, though. It gets a lot more exciting in the next few chapters. Just in case you were wondering, this story is far from over. I've got at least ten more chapters plotted out, and I might have to add more. Oh well, I'll see you all soon!

Coming soon: Preparations, Negotiations, and a Jump


	24. Chapter 23: Plans and Preparations

A/N: Alright people, here's the deal. I know that it's been over 2 months since my last update, and I'm sorry for that. My life has been extremely hectic for the last couple of months, culminating with my successful enlistment into the military. This particular author has the inclination to be all that he can be, so the U.S. Army is going to help me out with that. Since that is the case, all of my stories are officially going on HOLD after this chapter is finished. I have several months of training before I will be allowed unrestricted access to a computer again, so I will be unable to upload any new chapters. That's my news, so now we can get on with the chapter, eh?  
  
**********  
Chapter 23: Plans, Preparations, and Agreements  
**********  
  
The following two weeks were very difficult for both Harry and Hermione. The magical buildup was uncomfortable, but became excruciating when the excess magic began forming new pathways for Harry and Hermione to use their new reserves. Control quickly became an issue, as the pathways connected to their muscles, putting magic behind each movement. Harry almost snapped his wand several times, just gripping it. Hermione turned one the libraries oldest books into powder when she got frustrated trying to break its copyrighting charms. Her temper, more volatile now, thanks to the magic simmering just beneath the surface, got the better of her and she threw the book across the room. She failed to realize the age of the book, and it basically turned to dust. It took her several hours of careful spell work to reconstruct the book, but the copy protection was broken, and she got the copy she wanted in the end.  
  
The worst aspect of this change, however, was the pain. Both students spent their entire days, and most of their nights in excruciating pain. Each new pathway carved its way through their magic, mind and body, making them feel like they were being subjected to specific forms of the Cruciatus curse. They used all sorts of numbing potions to control the pain, charms when the potions wore off, and then fought each other to the point of exhaustion, just to get through the day.  
  
Professor Snape, oblivious to the terrible pain the students were in, was having a field day taking points from them. As their muscles changed, they couldn't control the precision of their knives, and couldn't manage to correctly prepare the ingredients for their potions. Harry and Hermione were too preoccupied with their pain to allow Snape's attitude to even annoy them, however, and Snape was far too worried about five of the students in his house to worry about their attitude.  
  
Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Theodore Nott Jr. were all in the hospital wing, as they had been for the last two weeks, ever since Halloween night. They were in a right state, truth be told. They were hurting, almost as bad as Harry and Hermione, but couldn't function under that much pain. They were using their magical reserves to try and heal themselves, but to no avail. All that was being accomplished was the slow weakening of their magical cores. Madam Pomfrey diagnosed it as Non-Specific Magical Trauma, meaning that she knew it was a magical malady, but could not isolate the problem. Severus had brewed several complicated diagnostic potions, but couldn't find anything wrong with the students.  
  
What the Professor didn't know, and the students were too far gone to tell him, was the second generation Dark Mark that they had been branded with. Voldemort's newest version of the spell was a newer, more cunning version of his original idea. Voldemort had learned his lessons in treachery and deceit, and had branded his spies and operatives with a modified mark. The mark was keyed to his eyes only, and nobody else knew of its existence. It was a very clever bit of magic, since it ensured that no one could impersonate his spies, since he could see the absence of the mark, even though the infiltrator didn't know he was supposed to have one. As ingenious as the new mark was, it was not convenient to the five students in the hospital wing., slowly dying from magical drain.  
  
**************  
  
It was nearly midnight when the two cloaked figures materialized from the shadows in the hospital wing. The full moon outside cast plenty of shadows to allow the two demon-people to use their powers to perfection. A wolf howled in the distance, and the two figures shared a look. Remus was in the area, it seemed.  
  
Suspending that thought for a bit, Harry and Hermione got down to business, warding the windows and doors with their particular brand of shadow magic. The windows were tricky, since the clear glass didn't cast much of a shadow, but they eventually had the room sealed. Now it was time for the difficult part.  
  
Hermione and Harry walked soundlessly over to the beds where the five Slytherins were lying unconscious. they had been kept that way for almost two days now, since it seemed to slow the draining process. As one, they began working on each of the students. First, Hermione would place the student under the body-bind. Then, Harry would reach inside, and force their magical core to fall dormant. it was a very temporary thing, lasting less than thirty minutes, but it was necessary for the moment.  
  
Once all five bodies had been done, they were pulled from their beds and leaned up against a wall. Then, with a few simple waves of his wand, Harry woke them all up. Their eyes snapped open, and they tried to thrash around, but found themselves unable to. Once their brains caught up, they realized that they were not hurting anymore. Harry and Hermione could see the joy in their eyes, but burst their bubble quickly.  
  
Good evening, my young slytherins. Harry began. I am Flame, of the Imperial Dragon circle, and this is my partner, Blade. Harry pointed Hermione out. And you, I believe, are in a spot of trouble.  
  
Hermione picked up the story. You have been in constant pain for the last two weeks. The five teens' eyes widened in shock. They had no idea it had been that long. I know you think it has been a long time, but you're not out of the woods just yet. You five have been marked as Death Eaters, and that's why you feel that pain. Your master is dead. The five teens eyes now betrayed their horror and fear.  
  
Harry dug the knife in deeper. The Dark Mark connects you to him, and he's dead. It's only natural for the magic to constantly attempt to connect to him, since that's what the spell does. Naturally you feel the pain of the spell's failure. And the best part? Harry paused for dramatic effect. It will continue to hurt you until the connection is restored. The five Slytherins looked horrified at the thought. Harry decided to really scare them before the deal, it would make them more compliant. Fortunately for you, you'll be dead in a week or so, so the pain won't continue past your death. Hermione unfroze Draco, since he looked like he was the most lucid. He immediately fell to the ground sobbing, until he realized he wasn't in pain. He looked up, surprised, and tried to affect a superior air about him.  
  
Draco said. I don't feel any pain right now, and I'll bet they don't either. He pointed at the other four.  
  
Correct, Mr. Malfoy. You don't feel any pain right now. Harry agreed, tossing him a wand. that's because the mark is tied directly to your magic, which I have supressed temporarily, so we could talk. Malfoy looked extremely skeptical, and tried a few spells, growing panicky as they didn't work. It's no use, Mr. Malfoy, your magic is supressed for the moment, and will remain so for about eleven more minutes. I'm not a god, Mr. Malfoy. I can't take away your magic completely, I can only bury it for a short time. However, at the moment, you are powerless, and slated for an execution.  
  
Hermione took over. You should die by our hands, as followers of the Dark Lord, but we have a deal for you. Actually, it's not really a deal, but a choice.  
  
Draco looked scared, but controlled his face quickly. What kind of choice?  
  
Harry, who knew he was frightening Draco with his cloaked persona, picked up the dialogue. Very simple, Mr. Malfoy. You agree to keep the information of the Dark Lord's death a secret, and continue to pretend to be Jr. Death Eaters, and we stop the pain on a permanent basis. Or, you may decline our offer, and die where you stand. You speak for the group on this, Mr. Malfoy. Their lives are in your hands.  
  
It wasn't really much of a choice, really. Harry and Hermione knew what Draco would pick to live. It wasn't necessary, but Draco's cooperation would help keep scrutiny off of Harry for a while, and that was important in the long run. If everyone knew that Voldemort was dead, then Dumbledore would go to lengths to figure out WHY he was dead, and how it had happened. That would lead to several questions that Harry didn't want to answer just yet.  
  
I'll take option one. Draco said stiffly.  
  
The two demon-people just nodded and went to work. Draco and his associates made a miraculous recovery the next day, and were back to their arrogant selves within the week. Harry and Hermione thought it was hilarious.  
  
*********  
  
It was Christmas break before the two Shadow Mages, as they had begun to call themselves, could engineer a run-in with Remus Lupin. It was quite difficult to catch him anywhere by himself, since he was always reporting to someone. Harry knew enough from spying on the order meetings that Remus was spying on him, so that made the job even more difficult.  
  
It took some careful planning, but they managed to make sure that Snape was otherwise occupied the week before the full moon, and therefore unable to brew the Wolfsbane potion for Remus. Unlike most potions, the wolfsbane potion had to be freshly brewed when ingested, otherwise it would become toxic. Without the potion to control his transformation, Remus was forced to utilize the Shrieking Shack once more.  
  
The next big step in getting Remus to listen was the most difficult part. The lupine entity sleeping inside Remus was going to limit the amount of time that Harry and Hermione would have to chat. The wolf, once set free, might try to attack them before finding out the hard way that Demons don't respond well to violence. The only way that they could ensure Remus' safety was to push the transformation back for as long as they could. It took them several weeks, and lots of dead rodents before they could come up with a prototype potion to supress the werewolf transformation for a while. According to Hermione's calculations, it would last for just under an hour, giving them enough time to present the deal, and secure Remus' help. the only major catch to the potion was that it could only be administered DURING the transformation. The wolf wasn't dangerous to Harry or Hermione, but thier natural instincts were still demonic, and they would retaliate with deadly force without much provocation.  
  
On the night in question, Harry and Hermione were waiting for the moon to rise. Remus had turned up at the shack right on schedule, and had been sitting there for almost an hour now. Harry glance at Hermione, who met his eyes and nodded. she was holding a small hypodermic needle, filled with the potion. The potion was an odd combination of magical ingredients, muggle narcotics, and enchantments. It was necessary to introduce it directly to Remus' bloodstream, so he couldn't spit it out. Harry was going to restrain him while Hermione gave him the shot.  
  
It actually ended up being a lot easier than Harry had thought it would be. The werewolf was incredibly strong compared to a human, but Harry's magically enhanced physique made it easy to restrain him while Hermione injected the potion. Les than ten seconds later, Remus stopped struggling, and his transformation reversed until he was sitting on the bed, quite human, with a dazed look on his face. His eyes wandered up to gaze at the two hooded faces that had stopped his transformation. Wha- What did you do to me? He asked.  
  
We've given you an injection that will hold off your transformation for a while. We wish to speak with you, Mr.Lupin, but away from prying ears, and this seemed the best option for doing it. Harry said, although Remus only saw the Shadow Master called Flame. We are in a bit of a bind, Mr. Lupin, and your professional skills could be of great value to us in our next endeavor.  
  
What professional skills? Remus asked. I am unemployable by the Wizarding world, and have no real expertise in anything besides Dark Creatures, which you probably know more about than I do. What could you possibly need my help for?  
  
Mr. Lupin, may I call you Remus? The Shadow master he knew as Blade asked. He nodded. Remus, you may be unemployed, but you are a professional werewolf, are you not? Remus looked confused, and Blade elaborated. During the last year, you've been trying to keep the werewolves from siding with the Dark Lord, correct? I am guessing you are being compensated in some way for your trouble, so you must be a professional.  
  
I suppose that you're right. I am a professional werewolf, although I don't understand why you would want the help of a cursed being like myself. Remus said.  
  
Well, suppose you listen to our offer, then come to a conclusion, ok? Flame said. Remus nodded. Alright, first, we'll explain your end of the bargain, then we'll tell you what we'll compensate you with. Remus, you are a werewolf, and a teacher. Thus, we have a very unique individual in you. We have decided to open a school for the downtrodden. We would like you to teach the other werewolves for us. Your end of the deal is that you will not reveal this information to anyone, including Albus Dumbledore. You will be compensated quite well for your discretion.  
  
Blade picked it up. I am sure, being a werewolf, that you have heard of the legend of the Lycans?  
  
Remus went into his memory and dragged the info to the surface. Lycans are suppposed to be the ultimate power among werewolves. They are said to have conquered the moon,' meaning that they don't transform at the full moon, but can transform at will.  
  
Correct, Remus. Blade said. That is our end of the bargain. In return for your secrecy, and your help in the future, we will help you become a Lycan, rather than just a werewolf.  
  
It wasn't really much of a choice for Remus. They were offering him the chance to triumph over his curse, and he couldn't pass it up. I accept your offer.  
  
Flame said. For now, continue with business as usual. We shall contact you when we are ready. Expect us when you see us. The two shadow master demons melted into the shadows, leaving Remus to what could possibly be his last forced transformation.  
  
*********  
  
The year seemed to speed by after that. Down in the chamber, Harry and Hermione continued to work on their library, setting up their defensive traps, and hatching their sentinel. The Basilisk that Hermione hatched was quite odd, however. Hermione had come up with the brilliant idea of using phoenix feathers to heat the egg, rather than the usual heating charms. As a result, the basilisk hatched with scalesof a shiny ruby red, with yellow tints all over it. The eyes were every bit as deadly, and the poison was just as effective. The only major difference was the fact that it was now warm-blooded.  
  
The other races had been enthusiastic about a privately run school, away from the Ministry's control, and were looking forward to getting letters in the fall. Preparations for the school's forced renovations were in place and ready to go by the time Harry and Hermione boarded the Hogwarts express. The ride home would be the last place they would be seen for quite some time...  
  
*******  
  
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this!!!!!!! It was basically a transitional chapter, and more action begins in the next one. How do you think Mistress of Magic Umbridge will react to a school for Dark Creatures???


	25. Chapter 24: Summer Vacation

Chapter 24: I thought summer was supposed to be a vacation!

"Hey Hermione, check this out." Harry said. They were deep in the bowels of Azkaban, where they had decided to set up their school. The aurors were still upstairs, but the two demons had commandeered a small room in the basement where the aurors didn't go. Harry was working on his talent, and seemed to have a breakthrough.

He concentrated hard for a second, and then flexed his hand. A marble sized ball of fire appeared, hovering inside his slightly flexed fingers. A moment later, Hermione watched the ball increase in size dramatically. It was the size of a bludger in the time it took her to blink.

"Whoa, Harry. That's amazing!" Hermione exclaimed. "How did you do that? It always takes you at least thirty seconds to make a ball the size of a softball. That's much bigger than a softball." She fixed him with a penetrating look. "We're stronger now, but it doesn't account for that dramatic change. What did you do?"

"Think about it for a minute, Hermione." Harry smirked. "I told you how I concentrate my anger and desire into a ball, and pull as much magic away from it as possible. The magic condenses in my hand, energized by the emotions that it was pulled from, creating a ball of fire." Harry found this part funny. "In order to create more fire, I kept stripping the magic out of my emotions to add to the fire, until it was big enough to use effectively. I was thinking, and it didn't make any sense to do that. Once the fire is started, any magic that it touches will make the fire grow as it eats the magical fuel. All I needed to do was to feed a ball of solid magic into the center of my fireball, and it would immediately increase in size, so that it could eat the magic. I tried it earlier, and it works. I was just coming to get you, when you came down."

"Well, that is an amazing trick, but the doors we've been setting up to transport the students…well, they have someone ringing the bell." Hermione said. "I checked, and it's the one in the south of France. I didn't check the door to see who it was. Should I?"

"I think, Hermione, that our most important student is arriving for his summer school class."

Remus Lupin was somewhat nervous. When he'd spoken to Dumbledore the day before, he found out that Harry had left the train at King's Cross, and proceeded to an unknown location. To say that the information was disturbing was a bit of an understatement, especially since the Order had taken great lengths to insure that Harry was watched closely, no matter where he went. Remus didn't get much sleep that night.

When he awoke, however, he was a bit less worried. He didn't know why, but he was fairly sure that nothing catastrophic had happened to Harry in the last two days. There was no evidence of anything bad, and no witnesses, so it couldn't really have been the Dark Lord. He was the kind of guy who would try to kill Harry in the most public way possible, especially after the Imperial Dragon Circle had made him look like such a fool for the past year.

When Remus got to the kitchen, he found a note.

It's time for school, Remus. Bring your curse to the south of France, and we will speak again. Make sure that you ring the bell.

Remus was re-reading the paper, when he felt the jerk behind his navel. He had to laugh at the distraction. The demon had purposely given him no idea where to go in the south of France, just so the portkey could activate before he set it down without thinking.

The thump that he made when he hit the ground was not good for Remus' ego. As he looked around, he noticed that he was in a small clearing, a little ways outside of a village. He didn't recognize it, but he did notice that there was a door here, the door to a very old castle, which was now in utter ruin. Taped crudely to the column that had once held a large wooden door, was a paper sign. It was the only thing out of the ordinary about the place, so Remus approached it, so he could see what the sign said.

He had to stare at the sign for a bit. It didn't make any sense at all. It was an outline of a bell, which reminded Remus of the pictures Harry might have drawn, if he had been so inclined, at about the age of five. Under the picture was an odd phrase. "Do you want to come in?" was all it said. Remus began to think that the portkey had taken him to the wrong place. He pulled the letter back out of his pocket, thinking that it might take him to another location, but it remained a simple letter this time. Worried by being stuck in the south of France, Remus flipped the letter over, and saw something new. There was a five-inch Imperial Dragon Circle insignia printed on the back. Remus had to laugh. It was a silly play ion words. Holding the paper with the insignia facing him, he placed it over top of the bell, so the dragon circle formed a ring around the bell. He heard a bell, very far away, but coming through the doorway. The doorway was silent for a few minutes, and he waited. Suddenly, the shadows made by the doorframe began to darken and change. A figure rose slowly from the shadow, and walked up to Remus.

"Remus. I'm glad you came." The shadow figure said in an unrecognizable voice. It wasn't Flame's voice, or Blade's either. "Sorry about the voice thing. Sometimes it's difficult to keep my voice human. I don't think anyone else knows this, but demons have four sets of vocal chords. Turning off all but one is difficult for extended periods of time, and even more so for me. I am Flame."

Remus couldn't help but ask. "Why is it more difficult for you?" The smile could be heard on the reply, even though Flame's face was hidden.

"Because I have five sets."

That sort of ended the conversation, and Flame guided Remus through the portal.

It was a grueling day for Remus, and he was dead tired by the end, but there was no sleep for him yet. He had been given a small round ball, and instructions to give it to the leader of the Order of the Phoenix.

Flame took him easily to Hogsmeade, so it wouldn't be suspicious to Dumbledore. If Remus had appeared in the middle of Hogwarts, the wards would react to the new presence, and Dumbledore would wonder how Remus had gotten onto the property without triggering the wards earlier. That was dangerous, and Harry was being careful for a few more minutes. Remus knew his identity, and had agreed to keep it quiet until he made himself known to Dumbledore. Harry had a very special way that he wanted to do it, and Remus didn't feel that it was his place to spoil it. Besides, Remus thought, it was only for another hour or so.

As he approached the castle, Remus was suddenly overcome with his accomplishment of the day. With the help of his tutors, he had successfully seen his wolf form, which was something every werewolf wished he could do. Remus used to hate the beast that lived inside him, but now it was another story. To his mind, the wolf was now a living being, one with as much right to exist as he did himself. It was absolutely amazing what just one afternoon had done for him. He not only had seen himself for what he was, he found out that he didn't hate himself anymore either.

Remus had given the ball to Albus immediately, and an emergency order meeting was called. The members began arriving a few hours later, and the entire order was gathered by about eight o'clock in the evening.

"My friends," Dumbledore began, "we have gathered here tonight at the request of Remus Lupin. He has met the shadow masters, and would like to share some of his information with us. Remus, if you would?" Remus stood, and made his way slowly to the front of the hall.

"I had a very long discussion with Flame today, who is, contrary to what we've believed of late, not in hiding." The room was semi-surprised to hear this. It had been several months since the Shadow Master demons had been sighted, and it was generally assumed that they were hiding from the spotlight, so that they might continue their assassinations at a later time. "According to Flame, and confirmed by Blade, their purpose is fulfilled for the time being, so they have no reason to continue their killings."

"What was their purpose, Remus?" Asked Professor McGonagall. "I thought that a Shadow Master's only purpose is to kill." She reconsidered for a moment. "Well, and whatever other missions that their master gives them. Surely, if their purpose is served, then he would not keep them around?"

"I had that thought as well, Minerva." Remus said. "However, it seems that our demons were the result of a botched ritual." Gasps and chatter was heard from around the room, so Remus waited for silence. He continued when he got it. "Furthermore, Flame informs me that it was not a true summoning, but a calling ritual." Remus paused dramatically here, and noted that everyone was on the edge of his or her seats. "A botched calling ritual, by none other than Lord Voldemort." Everyone jumped back so hard that a few of the seats were knocked over, and a few of the more timid Order members wound up with nasty bruises on the backs of their heads. "I was given a viewing marble by Flame. He said that it would explain most of his situation, and solve many of our problems."

Albus dug the ball out of one of his pockets, and held it up to the light. The ball immediately took on a purple glow, and floated into the middle of the room. A laser-thin beam of light was shot from the ball, and spread out along the wall, until it made a small movie screen. Images began to emerge, and sound filled the hall. Everyone watched in horrid fascination as Voldemort captured Harry Potter, and killed him. Then they watched with growing horror as Harry Potter melted into shadow, and then returned as the Shadow Master called Flame. Professor McGonagall actually fainted when Blade was revealed as Hermione Granger, her prize student. The full presentation ended on a rather dramatic note with the death of Lord Voldemort. The ball stopped glowing, and fell to the floor, completely inert now. It was just a marble.

The hall was silent. Not even Albus Dumbledore could figure out what happened now. The Dark Lord was dead, but their savior was a known killer now. He was a member of the Imperial Dragon Circle, which was now known to the Ministry as a force of darkness to equal the Death Eaters, and the two deadly assassins were wanted as badly as Sirius Black was a few years earlier.

"This is an interesting development," Albus said. Remus thought he had a gift for understatement. "Remus, I would like to speak to Harry. I need to know how deeply he has fallen into the darkness. Perhaps there is some hope for him yet."

"Albus, this isn't Harry's fault." Remus objected. "He didn't fall into darkness. He was dunked. I got the whole story from him. The ritual that called the demons was performed almost seventeen years ago, before Harry was even born. He was possessed before he had any mental faculties to defend himself with. And the killing? You know as well as I do that a Shadow Master has to kill things. It's a compulsion, just like a werewolf always attacks humans. It doesn't matter whether we want to or not, and just like us, the Shadow Masters can't control their killer instincts."

Moody replied for the group. "It don't matter, Lupin. They're dangerous magical creatures, Shadow Masters. We need them under control, before someone else tries to control them. Since they contacted you, it becomes your job to lure them into a position that we can get them under our control."

Lupin didn't like the way Moody was referring to his best friend's son. "And how do you propose that I do that, Moody? You saw the marble. A killing curse from the Dark Lord's wand is guaranteed to kill anything that moves, but it didn't even slow down Harry. He's got more magical defense than we've got offense to throw at him, and he showed me physical strength that would terrify Hagrid. I've seen dragons that I'd call weak by comparison. How are we going to 'get him under control,' if we can't even touch him?"

"There are ways to control anything that comes from another plane, Lupin." Moody answered. "I know several rituals to bind wayward spirits to a caster. All you need to do is get them to us, and we can bind them back under our control."

Lupin had heard enough. "I can't believe that you'd be willing to take Harry's free will away from him, now that he's finally free of Voldemort." He growled, deep in his throat. The wolf agreed with him. He tossed his Order medallion down on the table. "I won't help you ruin his life, now that he finally has a chance to live one." He then pulled a medallion from his robes, one bearing the insignia of the Imperial Dragon Circle, and activated it. It was a portkey, and pulled him right back to the basement of Azkaban.

Dumbledore stirred. "That didn't go as well as I'd hoped. Severus," Albus said, "prepare the locatus potion to find Remus, please." Snape left the room, and Dumbledore regarded his audience. He could see that Remus had touched a few of them. "I do not relish trying to control Harry. However, if we do not bind the Shadow Masters to us, someone else will, and we cannot afford to take the chance that they will be better than Voldemort."


	26. Chapter 25: The School Year Begins

Chapter 25: Preparations for the School Year

* * *

It wasn't very difficult to break into the Ministry of Magic. Harry and Hermione found that out at the end of fifth year, when Harry lost Sirius. Hermione found it even easier during her first solo mission, when the Ministry lost Cornelius Fudge. 

The challenge this time was not to break into the Ministry, however. The challenge was to remain in the Ministry for several hours, and conduct some business in the Department of Mysteries, without being discovered by any employees. In order to successfully take the island of Azkaban from the Ministry, they had to move quietly until they were ready to take the prison. It had to done in one move, very quickly, so there was a lot of groundwork that had to be done before they took action.

The biggest task involved in taking the prison was the alarms. A massive web of interconnected wards and charms, all meshed together to a single alarm, located in the Ministry of Magic. The gigantic phalanx of spells was designed to instantly alert the Department of Magical Law Enforcement of a prison break. Obviously, in order to move all of the prisoners, they had to get them out of the cells, which would set off all of the alarms, and bring the entire Department to investigate. The Shadow Mages were very strong, but an attack of that size might damage the prison, and make the school's impending opening take much longer. Since the school was scheduled to open in just three weeks, they had to act quietly, quickly, and decisively, and they had very little time to do it.

The two shadow mages entered the Ministry in the same way that they always entered places. The doors all had alarms on them, but they didn't need doors to enter rooms. As they had planned, they were dressed as the Shadow Master demons, just in case they were discovered. Harry and Hermione immediately split up, each having a job to do. Hermione was taking care of the alarm system, and Harry was taking care of some _very _personal business.

* * *

Harry made his way down to the very bottom floor of the Department of Mysteries. He didn't want to come here often, but this was the only place where he could do what he needed to do. Pausing to make sure that he was alone, he approached the center of the circular room, where an odd arch-way stood, with a veil that drifted in the silence. 

"Mother, Father, I would speak with you." Harry knew that he could speak to the dead in this room. His magic was demonic enough to reach across the planes, but there was no way for the dead to reply unless the conversation was held at a location where the division between planes was very thin. In the Department of Mysteries, where the two worlds were separated by only a veiled arch, was the absolute best place to converse between worlds.

Two dark shadows coalesced on the other side of the veil, and Harry knew that his call had been heard. He'd never tried to contact his parents before, even though he knew that it was possible. He'd been putting it off, convincing himself that he was too busy to take the time, but he finally admitted that he was afraid. His parents had brought him into the world, but they didn't have any idea WHAT they were bringing into the world. They knew about the prophecy concerning him, but they didn't know that their son could become the greatest force of darkness that the world had ever seen. Harry wasn't evil, but he certainly was dark, and he freely admitted it. Voldemort was evil, and that was a fact. However, Harry didn't know whether his parents could make the distinction between dark and evil. After all, most spells from the 'dark arts' side of magic had been used for evil at some point.

"Harry…" the ghostly voice of Lily Potter drifted from the veil. "I wondered when you would find the courage to visit us."

"My son…" his father continued. "You've grown since last we saw you in person." Harry knew that his father was speaking of the echoes forced from Voldemort's wand. When the Killing Curse was used, it forcibly separated the soul from the body. Spell feedback was guaranteed with any spell of that considerable power, and a small part of the soul was trapped in the wand of the caster. When Harry had pulled the soul fragments out of the wand, they had re-joined the rest of the souls in the afterlife, taking the experiences with them.

"I have grown, dad." Harry said. He was going to try and explain what had happened, but quickly found out that he didn't have to.

"I hope you didn't come to us for approval, Harry." His mother admonished lovingly. "I know what you're up to with that school of yours, and I don't think I could be as proud of you for anything, not even for being elected Minister of Magic."

"A pair of demons, who called themselves Flame and Blade, paid us a visit." Harry's father explained. "They explained to us about Voldemort's ritual, and the reasons it failed. They also explained about the consequences of the ritual on both you and your friend."

"Speaking of that, where is she?" Lily asked. "I would very much like to meet this girl who has stolen my boy's heart."

Harry gulped, just a bit nervous. Since the demons left their bodies, Harry and Hermione had gained most of their human emotions back. Sometimes, Harry wished that it weren't that way, especially when he was nervous. "She's upstairs, taking care of some school business."

"She's circumventing the Azkaban ward stone, you mean." Lily said with a smile on her voice.

Harry was about to reply, but didn't get the chance. Apparently, Hermione was much better at overcoming wards than he was, and had already finished her task. She melted easily into the room and walked over to Harry. "I've finished, Harry. We can take Azkaban whenever we want to. Have you finished what you came to do yet?" It was only after she said this that she turned to look at the veil, and noticed to very distinct silhouettes still clearly standing there. "Oh, I apologize. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"That's alright, Hermione." Lily said. "I had just asked Harry about you, anyway. I know that you love my son, Hermione, and you have my heartfelt thanks for looking after him."

Hermione blushed a bit, and thanked Lily for what she said, and harry felt the need to get back on topic. "Mom, Dad, the reason I came to speak to you tonight has to do with us joining you beyond the veil."

Harry's mother was immediately vocal about this. "Harry no! You're too young to be thinking about dying. Your whole life is ahead of you, and you've just started an amazing project. You can't just up and leave it to the hands of fate. It's going to take several years before the school is fully operational, and has the right reputation."

"I know that, mom." Harry said defensively. "And trust me on this; we're not coming across the veil for a very long time. That's what I needed to talk to you about."

Now Lily was confused, so James asked the obvious question. "I'm very glad to hear that, Harry, but why would you come here to talk about NOT committing suicide? I mean we wouldn't ever expect you to do such a thing."

"Let me explain, dad." Harry said. "When the demons possessed us, they altered our bodies and out magic. They increased our sensory awareness, and added new senses which I can't even describe. One of those new senses can help us determine how long we will live, based on our health, and cellular growth rate. Demons age much slower than humans, so much slower in fact, that they are often thought of as immortal."

James Potter's profile showed surprise. "You mean…" He trailed off, unsure how to finish.

"That's right, dad. As long as nothing happens to kill me off, which is almost impossible, Hermione and I will most likely celebrate our twelve thousandth wedding anniversary before I appear to be as old as you." Harry said evenly.

Hermione took over for Harry. She knew this was difficult for him. "Harry doesn't want to be without his parents for that long, so we've come up with a solution, but we would like your support before we do it."

"I won't support either of you killing yourselves!" Lily snapped. "I sacrificed myself for you, Harry. I did it without a second thought, and I would do it again. I love you, my beautiful boy. I couldn't bear the thought of you joining me beyond the veil, not even now."

They didn't understand. Harry had to make them listen before they flew off the handle. "Mom, I don't want to kill myself, and I don't want to go beyond the veil. I want the both of you and Padfoot to join ME, on THIS side of the veil."

Harry's parents were struck properly speechless by the new information, and Hermione used the opportunity to explain her idea. Harry loved it, and she thought that Harry's parents might enjoy it also. "Earlier this year, I stole one of Harry's pictures from his album. It was a picture of Sirius, James, and you, Lily. I took it to an artist to have it turned into a painting, and the man asked if I wanted to have it animated, like a proper wizard painting. I told him that, no, I didn't want it enchanted in any way. I had the inkling of an idea, and needed an un-spelled painting to make it work."

As was their habit of late, Harry finished the explanation. Hermione and Harry liked to swap right in the middle of long explanation. They really did enjoy watching the heads turning to follow the speaker. It was like the listeners were watching a tennis match, the way their eyes went back and forth. "Because of the lengthy amount of time that the Dementors occupied Azkaban, the separation between your plane and ours is very thin. Not nearly as thin as right here, but if we enchanted that painting properly, it would become a window from your plane to ours. You couldn't cross over again, but you could see and hear what was going on in my school, and I could have my parents nearby, even if I couldn't touch you. It would be almost exactly the same thing as a Wizard portrait, but you could continue your life on your plane as well."

Once everyone was on the same page, Harry's parents were more than happy to agree to the plan. Harry left the Ministry that night, very pleased with the way things were going.

* * *

The raid on Azkaban was over before it even started. Without the wards to alert the Ministry, the two Shadow mages made short work of the Aurors. They didn't kill any of them, but they did force a tactical retreat. Once the Aurors were all gone, Harry and Hermione began to weave the Shadows into what was the most advanced thing that they had ever done. It had to work the first time, because there wouldn't be enough magic in either of them to do it again in the same day, and they didn't have an unlimited amount of time. 

Harry began tracing the powers flowing around the island, and started weaving shadow magic throughout the lines, ensuring that nothing could apparate onto the island. Hermione began to weave more complex shadow patterns, and tied them to a large piece of Amethyst crystal. She was ensuring that portkeys designed to land anyone on the island would get confused, and land the traveler somewhere close to the Bermuda triangle.

When those two tasks were done, Harry and Hermione joined hands and began to chant. It was an extremely old spell that they were attempting, and had to be done with two people. There was simply no other way to channel the sheer amount of magic that it took to cast the ancient protection spell. The spell was equal parts words and gestures, and the two Shadow mages synchronized themselves perfectly. They finished the incantations at the same moment, and both joined hands and began bending the shadow magic to their will, strengthening the spell, and altering it to their unique magical signature. Once the shadow magic was balanced with the spell, Harry and Hermione used their enchanting skills to permanently tie the spell to the island itself, making a permanent ward, the most perfect protection that they could give the island.

The final product of the spell became apparent when the waves reversed themselves, and headed back to the sea. The undercurrent washed up to the shore, and was sent back out to sea as another cresting wave. Harry had insured that nobody could apparate to the school, Hermione had defeated the portkeys, and the two together had prevented physical entry by boat, since the tide would push all boats away from the island.

There were things beyond their abilities, however. It would be a difficult flight, but a group of dedicated wizards could approach by air, either riding magical horses, or if they really tried, broomsticks. Harry had spoken to the leader of the elementals, and she had assured him that it would be no problem to alter the air currents around the island to prevent any entry by flying.

Harry also had a lack of understanding of House-elf magic. It became apparent to him that his defenses weren't complete when about one hundred of the little buggers appeared, seemingly right through the defense systems. At the head of the small Battalion of house-elves, was a very familiar face.

"Harry Potter! Dobby has found you!" The small elf squeaked excitedly. "And Harry Potter has such a monstrous house now! Dobby brought friends to help him work for Harry Potter!"

Hermione was more than thrilled at the arrival of so many house elves. Well, she hadn't really thought about actually running the school in terms of how the students would be fed, but was ecstatic when each and every one of the house elves demanded one galleon per month, and three days off per year. Harry agreed to the terms, and the elves began to turn the prison into a school. Harry and Hermione decided to kill the prisoners, since most of them were serving life sentences anyway. Four of the prisoners were there for a few months only, and Harry and Hermione set them free early. The rest of the one hundred twenty six prisoners were serving life sentences on charges of murder, so they were killed. It was easier than setting them free, and they couldn't keep them.

* * *

"Welcome, one and all, to the Shadow Keep Academy." Harry Potter stood from his seat in the Keep's Great Hall. "I am pleased to see that so many students decided to take a chance on a brand new school. Having said that, since the feast is over it is time for me to give the start of term notices. Look around you, and notice the types of students that you will be going to school with. Some are Werewolves. We have a sizable amount of Vampires. I noticed that the Drow sent a few of their promising young ones, and it seems that we have the pleasure of welcoming the entire new generation of elementals, as well as a considerable number of their instructors." 

Hermione stood then, and took her place in the center, to properly start the tennis-match explanation. "The one major thing that you might notice, is that there are no wizards. Most of you can use wizard magic, but you all have abilities beyond normal human wizards. Vampires, you can cast spells with wands, but you can also manipulate emotions and influence reactions. It's how you feed from humans. Drow, you have several secrets of your own magic, most of which center around the mysteries of soul magic. Werewolves, you have the ability to become some of the most fearsome warriors in the world. You are strong, fast, and remarkably hard to kill. These are the skills that we intend to help you hone to a razor sharp edge."

Harry took over, and the ball volleyed again. "This school is not a school for wizardry, as you might have believed. This is a Military school. We are going to teach you to harness your potential as warriors, healers, and commanders. When we are finished with you, you will be an asset to any military force you wish to join, including the newly formed Azkaban Militia. Every one of you, when you finish this school, is guaranteed a position in the Azkaban Militia. We will teach you magic as it applies in battle, how to counter the spells directed against you, and how to fight without magic as well. Most importantly, we intend to teach ALL of you to master your abilities."

"You might be wondering what Harry means by mastering your abilities." Hermione continued, and eyes scanned back to her. "Werewolves, especially, since your abilities are dependent on the moon. Are they really dependent on the moon, though? Let's ask Remus Lupin, Commander of Werewolf Battalion."

A door opened, and in sauntered Remus Lupin. The entire Hall gasped, with the exception of the few screams that were heard. What sauntered into the Hall was not a human with Lycanthropy, but a fully transformed werewolf. There was complete silence in the hall for a few seconds, and then a massive cheer erupted from the werewolves assembled at the large werewolf table. Remus walked to the very center of the hall, wher a black piece of cloth waited for him. Sliding a paw under the black fabric, Remus transformed into his human form, and wrapped the cloak around his shoulders. "If you believe," Remus barked, "that you are powerless against the moon, then you had better think again." Harry smiled, as it had been his idea for Remus to act like an Army Drill Sargeant. Remus began to pace. "Right now, you're not controlled by the moon. You depend on it! Society has you so brainwashed into thinking that it's wrong to change, that you need the moon's power to unlock the possible potential inside you. Well, I learned how to unlock it without the phase of the moon to help me, and I learned it from those two! With their help, I intend to teach each and every one of you how to master you own magic, and conquer the moon."

The applause and cheering continued for several minutes, and Then Harry sent the students to bed. It would be a very long year, and he was ready to get started.


	27. Chapter 26: Walk on the Dark Side

Chapter 26: Take a Walk on the Dark Side

* * *

"Albus, I've finished the Locatus potion." Severus Snape walked into the Headmaster's office, and set down a crystal decanter filled with a deep purple liquid. "Just pour four drops of it on the map, and it will tell you where Lupin has hidden himself away." 

"Well done, Severus," Dumbledore replied, "however, it is not necessary anymore. I know where Remus is, and our elusive Shadow Masters as well." Dumbledore handed a piece of parchment to Snape. "I just received a very urgent owl from Delores Umbridge about the prison on Azkaban. It was attacked tonight by a force of unknown numbers. The Aurors all escaped, but said that a force of nearly two hundred attacked them, and forced them to retreat. It would appear that the Imperial Dragon Circle has taken Azkaban for use as a base of operations."

"When do they intend to take it back, Headmaster?" Snape asked quickly. "If it's soon enough, Potter may not have time to organize his troops into a proper defensive force. The Aurors can overpower them easily with our help, and we can subdue Potter long enough to get him under control."

"That sounds good in theory Severus, but the Aurors Department has already tried to send an entire Battalion of Hit Wizards to re-take the prison. The island has new anti-apparition wards already, so they couldn't apparate there directly, and when they tried to Portkey, they wound up in the middle of the Devil's Triangle, where magical transportation is impossibly unpredictable. They haven't yet returned." Dumbledore sighed. "I tried my own, specially designed Portkey, and it ended up nearly in the same place as the Hit Wizards. I have an idea that may work, but the way is slightly dangerous. I'm loathe to try it without being certain that it will work."

"Can't we just use the boats?" Snape asked. "Sure, the Aurors will take some casualties, but surely they would make the beach?"

"If only it were that simple, Severus. I have new information from my contacts in the Ministry that it was not a force of two hundred that drove them out of Azkaban, but a force of two." Snape's eyes went wide, but Dumbledore wasn't finished. "According to several of the more experienced Aurors stationed on the island, their attackers were never more than a pair of expert fighters, who never used their wands. I have reason to believe that this means that Harry and Hermione use the shadowy prison to their ultimate advantage, and moved with such speed that they were able to force a retreat by more than one hundred Aurors, and they didn't kill a single one of them."

"But that should make our job easier." Snape said. "If there are only two demons and one werewolf, then it should be easy to make the beach with an overwhelming force."

"You still don't understand the power that those two are capable of wielding, do you Severus?" Dumbledore sighed. "They cast new anti-apparition wards, obliterating the old ones at the same time. They cast an anti-portkey ward, which normally takes ten or more powerful wizards to cast, and somehow or another, they have forced the tides around Azkaban to reverse themselves, so that all water seems to move away from the island." Dumbledore felt very old at that moment. "They seem to have thought of everything."

"Not everything, Headmaster. After all, you said that you might have found a way to circumvent the wards, correct?" Snape said, with his faith placed firmly behind the Headmaster.

"I may have, but as I said before, it is untested, and very dangerous."

"We just have to hope it works, then." Snape said, defying his Slytherin self-preservation instincts. "The ritual preparations are complete, and everyone is ready to go ahead with the ritual. If we wait any longer, we might miss the opportunity."

"You are correct, Severus. I will make the preparations immediately. I have to speak with Minerva for a moment." Dumbledore said. "I'll need her to look after the school for a while. This ritual, if it works properly, will most likely put me out of commission for a few days."

It took nearly a full day of preparations to make the extremely specialized portkey, and nearly another full day of practicing the ritual before Dumbledore finally decided that they were truly ready to take control of Harry Potter.

* * *

Harry was sitting in his office, finishing the last of the paper work he had before the Graduation ceremony when it happened. For the first time ever, the small tinkling of bells sounded throughout his office. 

'It only took them twelve years to figure it out.' Harry thought. 'I must say that I'm impressed.'

Mentally, Harry reached out to identify just who it was that had somehow gained access to Azkaban Island without his invitation. Locking on to thirteen energy signatures, he was surprised when he recognized the leader. 'So, Albus is finally ready to move against me. Can't say I'm surprised, but I thought he'd have made this move sooner.' Harry stood from his desk, and began to make preparations to greet his guests.

* * *

Albus landed on the beach head of Azkaban, and was greeted with the imposing visage of Azkaban prison, now serving as the Headquarters of the Imperial Dragon Circle. The group slowly made their way through the rocky lowland, and entered through the gates of Azkaban. 

The Group found themselves in a room of unfathomable dimensions. That wasn't to say that the room was overly large, only that no one could tell how large the room was. It was absolutely dark in the room, without any lights to speak of. Albus raised his wand, intent on giving the room some light, when the room illuminated a walkway straight into the darkness. At the end of the small walkway, was a raised platform, and on that platform was a smiling Harry Potter.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, I'd like to present Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard to ever fight the darkness!" Harry said to the seemingly empty hall. Dumbledore found it hard not to chuckle, even though he knew the danger he was in right now. Professor Snape had always accused Harry of 'grandstanding,' and that was exactly what he was doing. It was sort of a joke to Harry, apparently, this playing to the crowd. Professor Snape had always done it, trying to show that Harry was nothing special. He always played to the crowd of Order members. Harry normally took it well, and often beat Severus at the game now, but there were still the odd malicious attacks against Harry from the dark Professor. Albus didn't agree with Severus on attacking Harry, but since he had such an important role to play, Severus was never disciplined for his attacks, no matter how malicious they had been. Besides, the little bouts had taught Harry some very important lessons about fighting dark wizards. Lessons better taught by the potions professor that wouldn't seriously injure the boy, than by a Death Eater.

Professor Dumbledore readied himself for a very difficult fight, and walked towards where Harry was standing. The Order members that he'd brought with him stayed close behind him, both supporting their leader and hoping they could hide behind him when the fighting started.

"You've been gone a very long time, Professor." Harry said. There were some murmurs of confusion behind the aged Headmaster, but neither he nor Harry paid them any mind. Harry continued. "Twelve full years without so much as a letter, and now, just as the world begins to recover, you come back?" The contingent of twelve behind the Headmaster gave a shout of surprise. Harry's eyes lit up with a strange mixture of pleasure and understanding, and a small amount of condescending malice. "You didn't know that you've been missing for exactly twelve years today? Albus, you've been keeping secrets again, haven't you? When will you learn that dark magic is never a good way of traveling, especially when you're with a group of people who are not in on your little games?"

Professor Snape, ever the adversarial type, was quick to jump to the Headmaster's defense. "What are you on about now, Potter?' He sneered. "You know very well that the Headmaster would never use the dark arts."

Harry scowled, and waved his hand. Professor Snape immediately doubled over as if he'd been punched in the stomach. "Put a lead on your dog, Albus, before it gets bitten." Abruptly, Harry changed his demeanor, adopting a lecturing posture that was so much like Professor McGonagall's that for a wild moment Dumbledore thought that she'd given him lessons. "It seems that all of you are very surprised to find out that you've been missing for twelve years, even Professor Dumbledore is at a loss. That makes figuring out what happened altogether too obvious. The Ministry failed to break my wards, and found out that portkeys don't work, and the ferry wasn't an option anymore. So, rather than try the obvious solution, and send me an owl asking to visit, you attempted a far more dangerous stunt. With no other viable way to bring twelve wizards with you, you made a temporal portkey. The portkey was most likely designed to portkey you to Azkaban just before the wards went up, and then push you forward in time to the present. Very clever of you," Harry chuckled a bit, "but ultimately foolish. Temporal portkeys are class four dark arts, and carry a twenty year prison term for even attempting to create one."

Alastor Moody was properly appalled, but needed confirmation. "Is this true, Albus?" He asked. "Did you create a temporal portkey?"

Albus looked disappointed that he'd been caught, but seemed unrepentant that he'd actually committed a crime. "I did. I could find no other way around the wards, and it seemed necessary." Albus let a small bit of his frustration show. "I am, however, unsure as to why the Portkey didn't function correctly. The spell work was perfect. I made sure of that."

"I can explain that." A new voice stated. Hermione Granger joined Harry on the raised platform. "The reason that temporal portkeys are considered dark arts is really very simple. A regular portkey will take you to a destination, which is not dark or light. Temporal portkeys transport you to a different time as well as location, so there is a level of intent that has to be expressed in the spell. In the case of traveling forward in time, the emotions that are used are desire, and fear. Since you went back in time first, to get around our wards, the portkey used the emotions of your group to determine where to deposit you in the future. Your group of followers there must have been feeling quite fearful of how powerful we could be, so the portkey chose to spit you out in a time where we were at our most powerful."

"And now you're here. If it were anyone else, I'd ask you why you were here, but I've already got a pretty good idea of why you've traveled through time and space to see me." Harry said. He smiled sarcastically. "After all, if you wanted to see me that badly, you could have sent Fawkes. So, before you begin whatever ritual you came here to perform, I have to make a call.

A walkway lit up to guide Harry's path, and Dumbledore opened his senses to get a feel for the room. The darkness was absolute except where they stood, and Albus only got a vague sense that the room was close to the right size for the ritual. When he opened his senses, Albus hoped to get a sense of the kind of power he was dealing with, but the demons had blocked him from sensing them, just as they had done before.

The lights finally illuminated a large mirror…in the corner of the room. Dumbledore quickly did the calculations in his head. Assuming that the room was uniform, the room was perfect for the ritual, down to the last quarter inch. Harry stepped in front of the mirror, and spoke two words that sent Albus reeling. "Hogwarts Headmistress." The mirror clouded over, and then showed a crystal clear image of Albus' former office. "Minerva, are you available? I have news."

The stern visage of Minerva McGonagall graced the mirror. "Harry! I haven't spoken to you for almost a month. Been busy? I want to thank you again for sending us Professor Stalkington. He's very competent at his job. I don't think we've ever had such a good Defense against the Dark Arts Professor." Minerva paused, unsure whether she really wanted to know the answer to her next question. "Has there been any word from Albus?"

Harry smiled sadly. "Yes Minerva, there has. As a matter of fact, this is very late breaking news, as of five minutes ago. I can't decide whether it's good or bad news, though." Harry shook his head. "I found him, Minerva, and all twelve of the people that went with him. They're all alive, and that's the good news."

"And the bad?" Minerva asked, although it looked quite a bit like she didn't want to know.

"Minerva, Albus tried to use a temporal portkey to bypass my wards twelve years ago. Something went wrong on the trip, and he appeared on my island about ten minutes ago." Harry said. He didn't sound happy at all. "And the twelve others are here also."

Minerva's face paled, and her eyes got wide. "You mean he…" She let the sentence trail off, not wanting to verbalize the predicament. Harry nodded. "May I come to see him before you call the Ministry? He is one of my oldest friends, and I don't want to have to see him for the first time in twelve years while he's behind bars at the enclave."

"Of course you can see him, Minerva. I know that it made me happy to see him again, and I know he was your friend too." Harry shook his head again, as if he was trying to jar something loose. "I know I should, Minerva, but I'm not sure I can call the Ministry to have him arrested."

The next words out of Minerva McGonagall's mouth would forever etch themselves into Albus Dumbledore's brain. "Nonsense, Harry. No matter how you feel about him, or the Ministry, you have to notify the proper authorities. If you just ignore the law, you set a bad precedent for your students."

"You're right of course. Oh well, I'll do it later tonight. Right now, Albus has some kind of ritual that he wants to show me. It must be important, or he wouldn't have traveled so far to do it. Give me about two hours; the password is 'Victorious.' I look forward to seeing you again Minerva. Will you be staying for dinner?" Harry asked.

"Of course I am, Harry. I'll see you in two hours." Minerva made to close the connection, but paused for a final dig into the old Headmaster. "And Harry? Try not to laugh too hard when Albus fails in his ritual. He's getting old, and his ego is probably fragile." Then the connection closed.

Albus didn't understand the dynamic between his former colleague and the demon. Minerva knew what the boy was, and was very frightened of the demon. When she had found out that the demon was Harry, she became less afraid, but didn't like the talk about it. Even so, she had been quite vocally against the ritual. She knew what he intended to do to Harry, and yet she hadn't warned the boy what was about to happen. Albus thought maybe she'd forgotten, but then suspected that Harry might have an inkling of what was going on. He realized that he was in a very precarious position, but couldn't turn back now.

Harry made his way back to the raised platform, and stood still. "Well, Minerva will be here in two hours. I hope your ritual doesn't take that long, Albus. Just in case it takes a while, you'd better get started."

Albus chose not to respond, and gave the signal for the rest of the group to begin the ritual. The twelve Order wizards spread out in a circle around Dumbledore, and began to chant in unison. A bright yellow aura began to coalesce around him. The chanting continued, and the aura became bright. Harry looked on, something akin to amusement dancing behind his eyes. When Albus decided that the yellow was the right color, he began a very long string of words in a tongue that was unfamiliar to the wizards present. As Harry watched the ritual, a deep blue haze began to form around him. Dumbledore's wand made a circle in the air, and a glowing yellow tube materialized in the aura. With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore sent the bright yellow tube straight into the blue haze, where it wrapped around one of Harry's wrists. He looked down at it for a moment, then back up at the aged wizard, just in time to watch him repeat the process with the other wrist.

Dumbledore continued to chant, and the blue haze formed a murky cloud, obscuring Harry for a moment. Dumbledore finished his ritual with a shouted word, and the blue cloud of magic rushed into Harry's body. Dumbledore staggered back, and then stood straight again. The ritual had taken a good deal of power, but not as much as he had planned for.

Harry still stood there, an amused look on his face. Hermione just smirked a little, and walked over to admire Dumbledore's handiwork. Harry was now sporting a pair of green manacles, attached together by a dark blue chain.

Harry's amused look suddenly changed to a much more vicious grin, and Dumbledore got the feeling that he'd overlooked something. "Well done, Albus, very nicely pronounced Draconian Druidic, by the way. You have almost finished the ritual." Albus paled slightly, as the book hadn't detailed any more of the ritual. "Don't worry about the rest, though. It's much easier than pronouncing all of those words. Just pick which one it will be, and I'll do the rest."

"Which one…?" Dumbledore let the question remain unasked. He had a very good idea what was required to finish the spell, but didn't want to say it out loud. He would much rather that the words come from the demon's mouth.

Harry's smirked cruelly. "Come now, Albus. You have been studying ritual magic for well over one hundred years now. You can't possibly be naïve enough to believe that you can finish a ritual of this magnitude without an offering." Albus paled further, but didn't comment. Harry sighed theatrically. "You honestly think it will be easier on your followers if I say it?" Harry chuckled. "Fine. In order to complete this ritual, you must present me with a sacrifice. Ritual magic is all about give and take. You can't take until you give, so pick which one you want to sacrifice."

Albus Dumbledore was always the level headed one, but he was quite floored by what was being laid before him. He hadn't even thought about the possibility of a sacrifice before coming, and wasn't prepared to make one. Grasping at the smallest straw, and hoping to eliminate the only way for Harry to escape the ritual, he pointed at…Hermione.

Harry's eyes closed in grief, but opened angrier than an insulted Hippogriff. He stalked forward. "Hermione isn't included in this little game of yours, Dumbledore. She didn't chant in your circle, and therefore isn't up for sacrificing. If you had bothered to research the Ariatic chant that your circle used, you would know that they gave their lives and magic to you, to do with as you wished. That chant was phrased to become a magically binding contract, so you can offer one of them to me without fear of any legal repercussions. Their lives belong to you, so choose one to give to me." Harry was nose to nose with Dumbledore, and then struck. Faster than anyone could see, Harry had grabbed the aged wizard by the throat, and lifted him into the air. Harry leaned in close, ignoring the spells that splashed harmlessly across his cloak, as he whispered to Dumbledore, "and if you ever even think about harming Hermione again, it will be the last thing that you ever do. Are we clear?" He didn't wait for an answer, and released Dumbledore's neck, and walked back to his platform, ignoring the spells that continued to be absorbed by his powerful cloak.

Seeing Harry's back was turned, Severus Snape finally had the courage to yell the killing curse. "Avada Kedavra!" He shouted, pouring all of his hate for the boy into the spell. The curse sped through the air with unnatural speed, and struck Harry between the shoulder blades.

Snape had seen the viewing marble with the rest of the Order, but wasn't prepared to see that his curse did nothing. For all the apparent effect of Snape's strongest killing curse, he might as well have been aiming a green flashlight at the demon.

Harry chose to ignore the attempt on his life, and regarded Dumbledore through calculating eyes. "You're beginning to try my patience, Dumbledore. Make your choice, and end the ritual."

Dumbledore's eyes shut in pain. He had to sacrifice one of his followers for the ritual, which he hadn't planned on. His mind was whirling with thoughts as he tried to come to a decision. Obviously, Harry was far too powerful to be allowed to continue free of control. Dumbledore had apparently already allowed him twelve years of freedom, and shuddered to think of what the world had come to. The ritual would bring Harry under the Order's control, and Dumbledore knew that Severus Snape would take constant advantage of his ability to give Harry direct orders, even orders that could hurt him. Dumbledore couldn't allow that. Severus had also used an unforgivable curse less than a minute earlier, guaranteeing him a life sentence in prison once this ritual was completed. And finally, Dumbledore realized that since Voldemort was gone, and Severus was no longer tied to the dark arts, he was no longer useful to the Order of the Phoenix, except maybe as…Dumbledore knew who he had to choose. "I choose him." He said simply, pointing his finger at Snape. He couldn't bring himself to say the name out loud, and hoped that the demon didn't make him.

"Not concerned about sacrificing my wife, but can't stomach sacrificing another wizard, eh?" Harry sneered. "That's alright, Albus. I wouldn't expect you to be any better than a regular wizard bigot." Dumbledore sputtered angrily, but Harry ignored him, and addressed the darkness. "What you have just witnessed is called a symbiotic ritual. It allows one spell caster to use the magical essences of several other spell casters to enforce the spells that the wizard wishes to cast. These are very powerful rituals, and should be used with extreme caution, as well as avoided when encountered." Harry turned to the other side of the platform, and continued. "I would normally avoid such a ritual, since it can actually pass through my shields, but I wanted to teach you all a moral lesson as well. You see here how a series of decisions, based on the idea of doing good work, can actually force someone to become a dark wizard? Most people wouldn't see their own transformation, but I'll bet if Albus looks at it, he can see what I mean."

The lights came up in the room, and Albus found himself in a very large hall, complete with more than one thousand students, at least twice the population of Hogwarts. His thoughts caused his head to jerk towards Harry, just in time to watch the magical manacles drop to the floor and turn to dust. "I don't understand…" He said.

It was Hermione who shed some light on Dumbledore's confusion. "Well, we fooled you." She smirked. Harry stepped back, and allowed Hermione to take the foreground. This was her idea, put in place almost thirteen years earlier. "When we awakened as Shadow Masters, we were given knowledge about our species that no other being on this plane possessed, except for the one wizard who had summoned the demons before Voldemort. One thousand years ago, that man wrote down all the information that his research into the demons had yielded, and placed the scrolls in the Hogwarts library."

"I've read Slytherin's manuscripts on the Shadow Master demons." Dumbledore defended. "That's where I found the ritual that we used today. I found most of his work brilliant, but his information on the demons was very incomplete." Albus pointedly ignored the betrayed stare that he could _feel _from his potions master.

"There's a very good reason for that, Albus Dumbledore." Hermione said. "You were looking at the wrong manuscripts. It was Godric Gryffindor that summoned the first set of Shadow Masters, not Salazar Slytherin." Hermione actually giggled at the gobsmacked look on Dumbledore's face. "Why did you think he carried a sword? He sacrificed his magic to summon the demons, and had to defend himself the muggle way for several years."

"And suddenly, everything pops into focus, doesn't it, Albus?" Harry said. "I knew that once you identified what it was that you were facing, you would try and figure out everything about us. I began plans to remove the information from Godric's manuscripts, but Hermione didn't want the information lost from everyone. Hermione also made me realize that once you found out our identities, you would stop at nothing to control us, using some type of binding." Dumbledore's face showed shock that he could be that easily read. He prided himself as being at least a little unpredictable. "So, a little before Halloween of that first year, Hermione and I added several pages to the Slytherin manuscripts. See, I knew that the defender of light would naturally suspect an alleged dark wizard of summoning the demons, not even considering that it might have been another champion of light. Hermione even designed the fake ritual that you used. In her words, you would rather cut corners and use another wizard's work than spend the time to create your own."

"But…" Dumbledore tried to interrupt, but Harry pushed on, enjoying the moment.

"And since there was no sacrifice mentioned in the text, you somehow assumed that there wouldn't be one. I find that funny, since you have intimate knowledge that every ritual must involve some sort of sacrifice, including the wards that you set up at my family's house. Oh, before I forget, I must commend you on those wards. They protected me splendidly, although I do not appreciate my own magic being used to reinforce them. Next time you need a sacrifice, you should probably make it using your own assets, not someone else's. Apparently, you needed that lesson again today, Albus." Harry sneered. "You made a sacrifice that you didn't really have a right to make, and ended up betraying your own Order. I really must offer my congratulations. After over one hundred years of service to the light, you finally descended into the realm of the Dark Wizard."

Dumbledore wanted to rage, yell, make Harry stop saying these horrible things, but found himself unable to do so. His mind, even though he very much wanted to reject the idea, realized that Harry had spoken the truth. He had traveled through time, breaking a law that he himself had worked to pass. He performed a symbiotic ritual, a ritual designed to overpower and subjugate an unwilling subject, making it a class five dark spell, just like the Imperious Curse. On top of that, he had placed the ritual's possible gains over the life of his potions master, and named him as a sacrifice without his consent, even though he had sworn to protect him. "What have I done…?" Albus whispered, pain laced through his voice.

Harry addressed the class, again. "You see how he just now realizes how wrong his actions were. I have no hate for Albus Dumbledore, let me assure you. Albus has been following his own counsel for a very long time now. So long, in fact, that he doesn't often share his plans with others, assuming that they either won't understand, or won't agree. This is a small failing that I also share, although my wife is often my voice of reason, making sure I don't do stupid things. Albus did not share the plans for getting to my island with others, nor did he detail to these other witches and wizards all that he knew about rituals. Had he done so, we would be in a very different situation right now. Had the other's known what the ritual might require in return, they may have come with a willing sacrifice, making the ritual easily twenty times as effective. Had Albus informed them of his intent to travel through time, these twelve would have undoubtedly stopped him from the attempt, which would mean that these thirteen were not missing for twelve years."

"Your assignment for next week is an essay." There were groans all around, and many students got quills ready to take down the assignment. "I want three feet of parchment detailing a ritual of your choosing, and ways of defending against it. You may not use this ritual for your homework, since it wasn't real. Class dismissed." The students began to pack their stuff and head out of the hall. Harry's voice stopped them. "Senior classes, please stay here for your practical dueling class." Harry smiled. "Any one who has a free period is also welcome to stay." Harry turned the group of thirteen wizards. "We have a once in a lifetime opportunity standing here, and I don't intend to waste it."

Albus couldn't help but get nervous at the look that Harry sent him.


	28. Chapter 27: The Demonstrations Begin

Chapter 27: The Demonstrations Begin

* * *

"Class, today we are exceptionally fortunate." Harry said, addressing the two thousand students that had gathered for his special dueling demonstration. "These thirteen fine wizards have come a very long way to meet you, and are anxious to help me show you all how proper wizards fight."

Albus Dumbledore noted that Harry had used the term 'proper' when describing his group, but didn't have time to ask any questions before Harry moved on.

"We've been covering the three established forms of sanctioned dueling in the last few classes." Harry said. Albus was amazed at how attentive the students were, "Each of your classes got to see an exhibition of these forms as we began the unit, but that was mostly for show." Harry turned to eye the wizards with his practiced eye. "Today's duels will be different. There is no set up, pre-planned outcome. The wizards before you will give it everything they've got to win, and Hermione, Colonel Lupin, and I will give them just as much. You will see dueling today; dueling the likes of which you may never see again."

Hermione stepped in. Albus began to see that the two demons were a team in every sense of the word. They were a perfect pair, even more than Fred and George Weasley. "Remember as we go into this, that these are some of the finest wizards and witches on the planet. Out of the thirteen, six of them are certified master duelists, and three of those six are at least eighth level masters."

The students noticeably straightened up. Since none of the assembled students were actual wizards, they didn't attach any prestige to any of the faces, though they did recognize Dumbledore from his chocolate frog cards. If, however, they were dueling masters, then they deserved more attention.

"Severus Snape," Harry took over, "the greasy one next to the old man, is a level-eight master of formal dueling. Even more impressive, he attained that rank by age thirty-three. He might have qualified for the level-nine test, but he was discovered as a Death Eater, and banned from competition." Harry decided it was time to prod the angry man a little. "Lets hope that all those years of beating up on defenseless children and muggles haven't dulled his skills with a wand, for today he will face off with our very own level-eight duelist, Colonel Remus J. Lupin. As most of you already know, Remus has a nearly perfect dueling record, losing only two of his last forty-six bouts." Harry didn't say that the two bouts that he had lost were the two bouts that he had taken on the Shadow demons before their level-eight tests. He also didn't mention that Remus had been completely decimated by the two ultra-powerful creatures.

Severus Snape was predictably angered by the prod about his being a death eater, and favored the gathered students with his best sneer, right down his nose at them. He was mildly surprised that the only look he got back was one of eagerness.

Harry noticed the look that Snape was giving, but decided not to comment. The students of his school were used to far more intimidating things than an angry grease-ball. "Those of you who have reached the fifth-skill level will recognize the name of the author of your text book." Harry said, indicating the fifth year level and above. Unlike other magical schools, Harry's students were placed in regard to skill rather than age, and were unable to move forward until they reached a higher skill level. "The man standing on his wooden leg is Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, the author of 'Dirty Tricks for Dealing with Dark Wizards,' and a master of free-form dueling to the eighth level. Just to say that he is a level-eight master isn't enough, however. During his level-nine test, Moody beat his opponent after losing his wand. Under normal circumstances, this would be good enough, but since Moody was an active auror at the time, it was not acceptable for him to lose his wand at all. He was denied the level-nine mastery on those grounds." Harry couldn't resist shooting a triumphant look at the grizzled old auror. "I am going to honor his true mastery here, and treat him as a level-nine master. That means that there are only two people in this school who are a match for him. Since I'm one of them, I will duel him myself."

Moody was surprised that a few students actually clapped for him. Harry was using his book as a textbook for fifth-years? Moody had written that book as an advanced aurors course in dueling. Why was Harry teaching children the things he'd written?

Harry knew it was time to throw Moody off balance. "Moody is an excellent duelist, but he's probably not a match for my raw power. To compensate for my advantage, and to keep things as fair as possible, I will not be using magic in my duel with him."

Hermione took over once again. "Finally, to round out the top three, is the old man in the middle. Most of you have probably seen his face on your chocolate frog cards, so let me introduce you to Albus Dumbledore." Hermione could see that the students recognized the face, but since he had been gone for twelve years, none of the current students knew anything about him aside from what their teachers had told them. She was about to change that. "Albus Dumbledore is widely considered the greatest duelist in the last three hundred years. He spent his entire dueling career undefeated, retiring at age one-hundred sixteen. He is a level-ten master of both free-form and formal dueling, and the only level-ten master of Single-Wand Combat, the anything goes dueling style that he pioneered himself."

Hermione had gotten their undivided attention, but it was Harry who got them seriously excited. "As most of you know, Single-Wand Combat is my favorite style of dueling. In the last few years, I've been taking the tests to advance in it. Well, today I'm going to test for the level-ten mastery against the only man able to give it out. You're all going to watch what might just be the fight of the century."

Hermione couldn't resist jumping in once again. "Harry, it's only fair to let these wizards know what they're up against." She turned to the assembled group. "Albus and company, today you will be crossing wands with one of the greatest duelists the world has ever seen. Harry has been very busy in the last dozen years. At his current age of twenty-eight, he holds level-ten mastery in free-form and formal dueling, and has recently advanced to level-nine master of single-wand combat. Also, he has become the first internationally licensed enchanter in almost five hundred years, and is widely recognized as the world's foremost expert on dark magic."

Minerva McGonagall chose that moment to step through the mirror. Albus was momentarily distracted by the odd method of transportation. Minerva had other things to say about Harry. "He is also married to a lovely young woman, and the father of a three year old child, so he'd better not get seriously hurt." She turned to Harry, still the stern teacher. "After all, Harry, nobody in this dimension can heal you if you get injured."

Harry had the good sense to cut her protest off before she could get started. "And just what do you think they can do to me, Minerva?" He asked. "Moody isn't a major concern of mine, even though he has the knowledge and resourcefulness to win. I have a bigger advantage, as will become apparent when the duel begins. As for Albus," he cast the wizard a malicious smile, "He's still very powerful, yes, but doesn't have the killer instinct necessary to attack me with the ferocity required to do real harm. I'm not worried. I'm just excited to be involved in a duel that I'm not guaranteed to win." Harry looked a little more concerned for a moment. "Remus concerns me, however. He's been looking forward to fighting Snape for several years now, ever since Sirius died. Sirius only encourages him from the painting, so I'm a little concerned that he might do something that he regrets later."

Remus Lupin, though not a Shadow Master, could enter rooms as sneakily as the demons did. He was leaning against the wall in the corner, and surprised Albus Dumbledore when he spoke. "It's no secret to anyone who knows me that I hate the greasy bastard. He's been the same hateful tosser since we met in our first year of school." Remus stepped forward a bit. "However, I'm going to put my feud with him on the shelf for now. Rather, I'm going to base my attack strategy on the conduct of my opponent. The students need to see how AVERAGE wizards attack people like us." Remus emphasized the word average, knowing what it would do to Snape.

Harry gave Remus a hard look, and seemed satisfied. He continued the introduction. "Finally, the remaining ten wizards will help Hermione demonstrate something very special. It's not dueling, really, but it is very important. Hermione is going to show you all how to fight the un-winnable fight; a ten-on-one ambush. Hermione is going to give her back to the wizards, and take the first spell BEFORE she begins to duel them." Harry's voice grew stern. "This demonstration will have practical application, so pay very close attention. In many places throughout the world, Werewolves, Vampires, Necromancers, and Drow are considered dark CREATURES, something less than human. There are people who make their living by hunting these creatures, ridding the world of 'evil.' These people hunt in teams. They never go hunting alone."

Hermione finished the explanation. "While an ambush is an undesirable situation, it is a very possible one. What I want to show you is not how to defeat ten wizards by yourselves, but how to react to the situation if it should ever happen." Hermione knew that her students were proud, but she needed them to understand. "In a fight for your life, running away is often the best course of action. While it may not be possible to escape all ten, if you can hurt a few, the others may be distracted long enough for you to get away. I will demonstrate several techniques to aid you in making such an escape here today."

Since the introduction was done, all that was left was to explain the rules of Harry's house to the newcomers. "This is my house, ladies and gentlemen, and you will abide by the rules here. All rules sanctioned by the international dueling committee are valid here, save two. One, the duel is over when someone quits or dies. Knocking your opponent out or taking his wand does not represent a win. Two, ANY spell is allowed during the course of the duel, including the three unforgivable curses. Having said that, the Killing Curse is frowned upon, though it is allowed. I do not teach that curse here, and would much rather my students didn't learn it." Albus was appalled that Harry would even allow the spell to be used. "Any questions before we begin?" Harry didn't give time for any questions. He knew that the old man would try to stall the fighting as much as possible. "No? Good, let's get started."

Hermione decided to play ring announcer. "First in the ring, The Rabid wolf will be taking on the greasy dungeon master. Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, please step into the dueling ring."

* * *

The two men entered the ring, and Harry made a small gesture with his hand. The platform changed slightly, becoming longer and thinner, the official dueling platform of formal dueling. "Let's get started." He said. Remus unclasped his cloak, and shrugged it off. He was shirtless underneath. Albus stared at the tattoos that almost covered Remus' arms. Remus was wearing what appeared to be leather pants, shiny black boots, and a golden armband, showing his rank within the school. Remus and Severus took their respective positions. "I don't stand on ceremony here, gentlemen. This duel begins with the first spell cast."

"I'll let Snivellus have it." Remus drawled lazily. "He's not strong enough to hurt me, so I might as well let him get a few shots in."

Snape was furious at the idea that he couldn't beat the werewolf. He cast his spell. He didn't say the incantation, but anyone would recognize the disarming charm. Harry chuckled. Remus simply flexed his powerful forearms as the spell washed over him, and kept his wand. The lack of reaction was enough to momentarily confuse Snape, and Remus took advantage. With a deceptively lazy wave of his wand, the werewolf sent a barrage of tiny black darts at the dumbfounded wizard. The appearance of the darts was enough to jolt Snape out of his confusion, and he dropped to the floor to avoid the tiny needles.

Harry took the time to teach his class as the duel went on. "As you see, Snape led off with the simplest dueling spell ever made. The disarming spell is rather simple in its purpose. Depending on the power you put into the spell, it will separate a man from his wand a certain distance. Normally, the wand will jump from your opponent's hand, often flying toward you." Harry smirked. "Obviously, Snape wasn't prepared for the extra strength of the werewolf, and was unable to separate Remus from his wand. In any case, the disarming charm is probably the easiest spell to recognize in the dueling ring, and definitely the easiest to block. Any way you look at it that was a classic example of what NOT to do."

Snape was back on his feet, and mad as a hornet. With a flourish of his wand, a much crisper version of the same wave that Remus had done, he cried "Argentium!" A multitude of silver needles shot out of the tip of Snape's wand. The needles were fast, but Remus was ready. A powerful whip-crack motion of his wand sent a blast of wind ripping across the dueling platform, throwing the needles off course. A few of them still got lucky, and hit the werewolf in the arm. A powerful shake of his arm dislodged the needles, but they still left pinpoint puncture wounds and burns where the silver had touched him.

Harry took the moment to teach a little more. "The silver dart spell is a spell that you werewolves should become very familiar with. While it is almost impossible to cast for you, many of the hunter teams use it when they hunt. The silver darts can of course cause you extreme pain, and if a few people cast the curse simultaneously, it can most certainly kill you. Remus used a very obscure wind shield to throw the darts off course, but the best idea would be to dodge it if you can." Harry had more to say. "Notice that Snape verbalized the spell? That is a very common thing in duels such as these. In altering the dart spell to create silver darts, Snape had to concentrate much harder on the intent. Being that so much of his focus was taken by the modification, Snape verbalized his intent, hoping that Remus would dodge it. With so much focus, he wouldn't be ready to dodge the counter-attack as quickly, so he wanted Remus to be scared of the spell enough to dodge out of the way, leaving Snape time to get ready for his defense."

The ploy obviously hadn't worked, since Remus went on the attack immediately following his counter-spell. A fast flick of his wand sent a bolt of blue energy screaming towards the wizard, who couldn't dodge it in time. Snape caught the curse in the shoulder, and was lifted off of his feet. He landed painfully on his rump.

Harry was enjoying the play-by-play. "Notice the pace of formal dueling. One person attacks, and the other defends. The combatants must take turns. This is a throwback to the old days, when swords were used instead of wands. As many of you know, when playing with swords, you must either attack or defend, there are no real moves that are both. So, formal dueling is very much like a fencing match." Harry got a sour look on his face. "It takes ungodly patience to master formal dueling. I do not have that patience, and have a tendency to break out the powerful spells very early in the match. Formal dueling is my least favorite of the three forms."

Snape seemed to be learning from Harry's lecture. His next spell was non-verbal and looked very strong. The brilliant orange bolt flew at Remus' head, but the werewolf simply ducked out of the way. Remus then sent a spell at Snape's midsection. The spell was nearly invisible, just showing as a ripple in the air. Snape couldn't dodge out of the way, and the spell toppled him to the ground again, as he vomited. Harry recognized the spell as a pugio curse, the magical equivalent of a punch to the solar plexus.

"Another lesson to learn from the wizard," Harry commented, "is that you should avoid any spells that target only the extremities of the body. Your arms and Head move faster than your midsection, so it is much easier to dodge spells aimed at your extremities. Your torso is always the last part of your body to move, so it is best to target it with dueling spells."

Snape had reached the limit of his anger. His mind descended into rage. From his knees, a violation of the rules of formal dueling, he hit Remus with a Cruciatus curse.

A supremely disciplined fighter, Remus managed not to scream. He did, however, fall to his knees. His teeth were clenched in pain, but he didn't scream.

* * *

Snape noticed that the hall had gotten very quiet. Using a trick he's learned from the dark lord, Snape divided his concentration, observing the room while he held the curse on his enemy. He first registered an almost maniacal gleam in the eyes of the Potter boy, and a shocked look gracing the features of Albus Dumbledore. Then, he turned his eyes to the assembled students. Rather than the shock he expected, many of the students actually looked eager. This confused Snape. It was as if the students didn't think that the duel was over yet.

* * *

From a historical point of view, Snape should have kept his mind fully on the torture of the werewolf. The momentary lapse in complete concentration was all Remus needed. A poorly aimed blast from his wand took Snape in the shoulder, spinning him wildly, and ending the cruciatus curse. Snape spun back around in time to see Remus get to his feet and tuck his wand into his belt. Was he going to give up? Then, Remus began to change.

Snape was confused. The animagus transformation would be impossible for a werewolf. The potion required for the change contained silver bell holly and Aconite, either of which would be deadly to a werewolf. How had he done it?

Snape's confusion gave way to horror as Remus' change ended, for standing in front of him was a face from his darkest nightmares. Seven feet tall, a wolfish face on a human head, powerful, thick arms, and a dark, furry body; the absolute perfect cross between man and wolf, Remus had unleashed the beast.

* * *

Harry was prepared for what he knew was about to happen. When Snape had performed the torture curse, Harry had faded into the shadows, only to appear right behind Albus. While Dumbledore watched Remus change, Harry slipped his hand into the aged wizard's pocket, and stole his wand. As the transformation finished, Albus made a grab for is wand, intent to stop the fight. Finding his pocket empty, he spun his head to look for it, thinking it fell to the floor, and found himself staring into a pair of emerald green eyes. Harry's eyes told a story, and it wasn't a happy one. They conveyed, without words, that the old man would not be permitted to interfere.

Albus turned back to the fight, hoping that Severus would give up and save himself, and knowing that he wouldn't. Harry whispered in his ear. "I won't allow you to interfere, Dumbledore. You've protected him long enough. He's made his bed, now he will have to lie in it."

* * *

Snape could have given up at that point, and gotten away with his skin. Instead, he panicked. "Avada Kedavra!" He shouted. Snape was a talented wizard, and had a great deal of power. Aiming that considerable power to kill the werewolf, the killing curse rocketed through the air, catching the werewolf dead center of his massive chest. Remus gave a shocked yelp, and crumpled to the floor.

Snape's relief was very short lived. Just as he let out a relieved sigh, he heard a low growl. Like, a submarine rising from the depths, Remus got to his feet. A jagged cut was ripped across his chest, but the beast was very much alive.

Remus was out for blood. A long, horrifying howl pierced the air, a sound fit to wake the dead. Snape dropped his wand in terror. With a snarl that made the hair on everyone's arms stand up, Remus launched his powerful frame at Snape. The greasy wizard didn't even have time to react. Remus' powerful arms encircled his foe, and the beast clamped his powerful jaws down on the wizard's throat. With a gleeful snap, Remus tore his enemies throat out, and used his powerful arms to crush his ribcage. Snape's spine snapped like a toothpick, and the wizard died instantly. Remus laid Snape's body on the platform gently, displaying reverence to the dead. He didn't transform back, but finished his transformation, becoming a complete wolf. The wolf jumped from the platform, and sauntered out of the room, intent to clean the blood from his body.

As Albus approached the dead body of his friend, the class remained silent, respecting the dead by not cheering. Harry had taught them well, and they knew it was impolite to cheer for any duel that had ended in a fatality, even if they were pleased with the outcome.

Albus reached Snape's body, and fell to his knees, crying for his friend. Harry didn't like the man, but wanted some of his questions answered, so he decided to approach the old man. The man would be less likely to lie when he was vulnerable, and it might be a good time to show the old man some hard truths. Albus noticed Harry approaching, and beat him to a question.

"Why, Harry?" Albus asked. "Why did you let Remus do that to Severus?"

Harry knew that he needed to be honest. The old man had to learn. "Snape is dead because of the choices he made, not because of anything I did. If you need to blame someone, ask yourself why Snape didn't give up when he had the chance."

"You had the power to stop the duel, Harry, but you did nothing." Albus countered.

"I had no business interfering, and the only rule that was violated was the one Snape broke when he fired a spell from his knees." Harry said. "The rules do not prohibit transformations. They are actually specifically allowed by rule number thirty-eight. Remus didn't break any rules, and Snape's infraction would have lost points but not disqualified him. The duel had to continue. Why did you try to stop it?"

"Severus had no way of defending himself from a werewolf, Harry." Albus said. "I had to try to help him."

"If he had no way of defending himself, he should have given up. Instead, he used a killing curse, showing Remus that the fight was to the death. Remus retaliated in kind. Since the rules do not prohibit killing curses, they do not prohibit any other ways to kill your opponent, either. Since the rules weren't violated, your 'help' would have interfered with the duel." Harry said.

"Your rules need to change, Harry." Albus reprimanded. "You can't allow these students to go around killing each other. We can't afford to lose so many capable witches and wizards."

"What witches and wizards?" Harry asked. Albus indicated the students. Harry giggled. "My students? The Ministry of Magic doesn't recognize my school, so I do not teach witches and wizards here." Albus looked puzzled. Harry didn't realize that he was that thick. "My students are from the other races. Necromancers, Drow, Elementals, Werewolves, and Vampires come here to learn the skills to help keep them alive. I do my best to keep them that way, but the world is full of harsh lessons. Luckily, I've been doing this for twelve years now, and I've only lost nine students. Not bad for four years of graduating classes. Eight thousand graduates, nine deaths. Not even one percent of my total."

"All of these students are of the other races?" Albus asked. "How is that possible?" Albus was familiar with the law. In Britain, any dark creature had to register with the department for the control of Magical Creatures. In Britain, the number of creatures on the registry was under ten thousand. Unless Harry offered schooling to the entire world, the number of students was far too high. The number of students, assuming that they were all British, indicated a population closer to fifty thousand.

"Yes, Albus, I do offer my school throughout Europe." Harry said. "But you're only seeing a quarter of my students here. I've currently got close to nine thousand students enrolled. Just to draw a comparison, Hogwarts is full, now that the Dark Lord has been dead for twelve years. All two thousand beds are filled by young witches and wizards." Harry smirked. "The Daily Prophet was quite proud to report that fact last year, in fact."

Eight thousand garaduates, and another nine thusand at the school…That meant that there would be an adult population of nearly five million in Europe alone.

"Yes, we outnumber you." Harry said, knowing what the old man would be thinking. "I won't even consider giving you accurate information, but there are easily more of us than there are of you."

Hermione walked over. She needed to speak to Harry about something. "Harry, Snape getting killed was not part of our original plan." She whispered. "The others need time to grieve for him, especially if you want any real fight from Albus. I think we'll need to postpone this exhibition until next week."

"Good idea, Hermione." Harry said. "I want Albus in top form, and he'll be distracted by this development. I'll tell the children." Harry turned to face the sea of silent students. "The result of this duel is never the best way to end it. Death is irreversible, and revenge and panic are two of the worst reasons to kill anyone. Since this duel ended the life of one of the wizards, the exhibition will be postponed until next Friday. Class dismissed."

As the students exited the hall quietly, Harry joined the group that had formed around the Potions master. "I'll have the necromancers up to clean and heal the body. We will keep him safe for you until such a time when he can be given a proper burial in a place of his choosing."

Albus was familiar with the unique magic that the necromancers could wield, and was thankful that Severus would be taken care of. "Thank you, Harry."

"Shall we adjourn to my office?" Harry asked. "You have been gone a very long time, Albus, and many things have changed. Minerva, Hermione, and I will bring you up to speed."

* * *

A/N: I'm not finished with this story yet! I have at least a few more chapters in it before it's over! I hope you liked this one, and I'm working hard on The next installment…I am deployed in Iraq right now, so don't look for it too soon, but be on the lookout for something, Ok? 


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